Reminder
by forgottenfreedoms
Summary: "It had never mattered to me before. The fame, money, work, status, none of that had mattered to me. I once told you that all I needed was for you to look at me the way you were in this particular picture and that would be enough..."
1. Priorities

**A/N: Hello everyone! I decided to add to this lovely ship a story of my own. Let me know what you think! **

It was late. The sun had long since slipped beneath the horizon. I sighed, a glance at the dashboard telling me all that I needed to know.

Its bold numbers glared an angry 11:38 at me. I glared back.

Work had been hell, as it had been at an infuriatingly increasing frequency over the past couple of months. The merger had put the entire business on its head. As much as I appreciated the new client flow and talent under our jurisdiction, I was also floundering while trying to complete the work of the three people that had been dropped and had yet to be replaced in the shuffling. I was a producer, I didn't get into the business to draft up contracts and crunch numbers yet that was how I had been spending my time lately.

It seemed that everything had a deadline and a deadline that was fast approaching. Coming to a halt at a stop light I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to press away the stress I knew was present there.

It was too much. I was being given too much to handle and it was slowly ripping the life from me. I couldn't even remember the last time that I had been in a studio and while my colleagues who also had survived the merger were great at what they do, I didn't want the people who were paying _me_ to work on their album never actually get to _work_ with me in person.

At first, I had adjusted schedules and crammed all my studio sessions into the miniscule gaps in my schedule. But it was too much.

Numbers and figures were dancing through my thoughts as I pulled into my driveway. An absentminded swipe at the remote clipped onto my visor opened the door to the garage in front of me. Putting the car in park, I slipped the keys from the ignition.

My phone buzzed from where it sat. I heaved a deep breath at the site of four new emails. I tapped in a familiar pattern to unlock my phone and read the headings of the emails. There were two from prospective clients' agents, the other two from our own financial office, the currently heavily understaffed financial office.

The icon below showed me that I also had missed calls. A couple from Jesse and one from Aubrey. I shook my head taking another look at the dash to see that time only continued to move onward. It was too late to call him back and I wasn't in the mood to talk to Aubrey who had been on a bridezilla rampage as of late. It was probably best to wait until tomorrow to return the calls.

I pushed my car door open hearing the rhythmic, beeping reminder that I had left my lights on. Switching them off easily, I side stepped the other car in the garage and moved swiftly toward the door on the opposite side of structure.

Slipping my shoes off, I set my bag near the door and placed my worn leather jacket on its rightful hook. It was silent save for the rustling of my own movements.

It was late. _I_ was late. And not for the first time.

I cautiously entered the kitchen only to be met by darkness. Frowning, I flicked the switch on bathing the kitchen in light. The scent of garlic lingered in the air, my stomach growling loudly at the prospect. I gave it a halfhearted pat and acquiesced its request moving toward the double door fridge that you insisted would be "timeless while being simultaneously effective." I had agreed, not having much of an opinion on fridges but knowing you wanted me to at least pretend that I did.

When we had bought the house, we went into it knowing that the kitchen was outdated and in dire need of a remodel. As much as you denied it, I knew that you were excited about what it would entail. As it was, after we had inked the appropriate paperwork you had gleefully called Aubrey and the two of you set out solidifying a decent plan of attack in a mere week. You harassed me for input telling me that I should have a hand in the creative process so I did have to choose a color here and there but for the most part this kitchen was your project and your style only splashed occasionally by my own.

Inside the fridge, I found a Tupperware container filled with some sort of pasta. I peeled the lid back to find it was the culprit of the heavenly garlic smell that had loitered in the kitchen long after it had been cooked. A small container next to it held a mix of vegetables. I pulled the two out and walked over to grab a plate from its cupboard. Spooning out a portion I'm sure would be too large but for now looked appropriate, I set the plate in the microwave quickly pinning in a cook time on its screen.

Wandering back to the fridge, I placed both of the containers back in. I let the door slowly close on its own, coming face to face with the barrage of pictures that always littered the fridge.

My best friend's smiling face greeted me. The save the date for Aubrey and Jesse's upcoming wedding. My best friend had found happiness with yours and I couldn't stop the feeling that turned my lips up at the corners at the thought. They were great for each other and it was a marriage I knew wouldn't fail.

A picture of Fat Amy wrestling a crocodile stood out next to the professional announcement. It was an older photo, one that she had sent us because no one seemed to believe that she had actually spent her time in Tasmania doing such activities. I still wasn't sure why we doubted her, if there were anyone that seemed like they could be a crocodile wrestler, it would be her.

Slightly below that picture there was one from our last Bella reunion. Years later, we still looked like the biggest group of misfits ever and I wouldn't have it any other way.

A card from one of the kids in your class with the words "UR the bestest teacher ever" roughly written in crayon. The card had only supported my belief that texting shorthand would be the downfall of new generations' ability to spell. You rolled your eyes at me when I told you just that and pushed me lightly in the shoulder.

My fingers ghosted another picture on the door.

It had never mattered to me before. The fame, money, work, status, none of that had mattered to me. I once told you that all I needed was for you to look at me the way you were in this particular picture and that would be enough.

I let my finger trace the soft lines of your face, the soft smile that stretched your lips. Your gaze was fixed on my own and that was enough. I was struck by the simplicity of the picture. It wasn't captured by a professional, in fact the stranger we had asked to take the picture for us could hardly work the camera. He had pressed the button multiple times, his face scrunching up as he fought the technology in his hands. You laughed, content in that moment to be there with me and no one else.

The man apologized profusely for his lack of skill which we did our best to divert and thanked him for his help. He had captured a number of blurry pictures, one of his thumb, and the picture that currently hung on our fridge. It was a picture hardly posed at all, one of us caught in a moment between the others.

A sharp beep signaled the end of the cook time on the microwave. I pulled the plate from its confines and grabbed a fork from its drawer.

I ate quickly, knowing that no matter what time I got to bed I would still have to get out of it at the same time. And the time hardly mattered because both my body and my mind knew that whatever it was, it was not enough.

I rinsed my dish and placed it into the dishwasher, setting the full machine to run a cycle.

I tiptoed quietly up the stairs and into our room seeing your side occupied, your back turned toward what is my side. I pulled a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top from a drawer in the dresser and walked to the bathroom. Changing inside, I completed my nightly routine and pried the door open.

I ran a tired hand through my hair. The mattress dipped slightly as I crawled into bed beside you. Kicking my way into the blankets, I settled into my pillow.

It was your breathing that told me you were awake, but it was your back squared firmly in my direction and the rigidity of it all that told me you weren't going to greet me in any manner let alone talk to me.

You were angry. I couldn't even blame you for it. We hadn't seen much of each other lately and it was entirely my fault. When we did talk it normally ended in some sort of an argument, something that, once again, I couldn't help feeling was entirely my fault.

I fell into an uneasy sleep only to wake to the shrill sound of my alarm after what seemed more like minutes than the hours it actually had been. I swatted aimlessly toward my nightstand trying to locate the source of the noise. Finally my hand hit home and the noise ceased. I buried my face into my pillow, not ready to leave the warmth and security of the blankets just yet. Running a hand to my left I was met only with soft sheets, cold from the morning air that surrounded them.

It wasn't uncommon, not anymore, for me to wake up to an empty bed. It was probably some version of payback for me forcing you to fall asleep in one each night. But even this was early for you.

My alarm sounded again, too soon, and I slapped it quiet, again. I swung my feet to the ground. Allowing my elbows to rest upon my thighs, I let my head fall heavy into my hands. Rubbing at my surely bloodshot eyes, I made my way to the bathroom not entirely positive that I wanted to begin this day anew.

After showering and getting ready for the day I made my way downstairs. You stood with your back to me, spatula in hand, your focus on the contents of the pan in front of you. Had it been months ago I might have slid my hands around your waist and placed a hearty kiss to the neck your messy bun had left exposed. But it wasn't months ago. It was today and today I walked warily to the fridge and pulled the milk from the side door.

You hardly looked up from the pan in front of you. Your gaze was fixed forward, your left thumb toying with the ring and band that adorned your aptly named ring finger. You looked tired, as though a thousand sleepless nights had plagued you. My stomach dropped as I realized that also was probably my fault.

I was fucking up. I was fucking everything up as my dad had done before me and as his dad before him. It was practically hereditary at this point. I shouldn't have been so surprised when I started following suit.

I grabbed a bowl and shook some cereal free from the box, pouring milk into it. As I took a seat at the raised bar, I found I wasn't hungry. I settled for pushing my cereal around, watching as what was once solid dissolved into pieces and irreparable parts.

You plated the omelet you had been crafting and after filling a coffee mug, took a seat beside me.

There was a time where silence was easy, comfortable. That time had passed and all that was left in its wake was an uneasiness that made my stomach churn.

I stared at the soggy mess in front of me wondering exactly how we had gotten here only to remember that it had been my doing. You had been supportive and reasonable and I had slowly turned into my father.

"Did you talk to Jesse?" Your voice startled me from my thoughts. It was raspy probably a product of the morning, yet it lacked its normal depth.

I kept my head down as I replied, "Um, not yet. I was going to today. He's probably just getting cold feet or something, I'm sure it's fine."

You snorted derisively beside me, my gaze shooting toward you. You had an undecipherable look on your face. I didn't know what to make of it. One eyebrow arched dangerously upward as you leveled me with a glare. Your eyes searched my face, for what? I wasn't sure.

"You honestly don't remember do you?" Your voice was incredulous. I gave you a confused look prompting you to continue. "You weren't just busy, you completely forgot didn't you?"

I wasn't sure what you were hinting at. My mind began whirring about trying to remember what it was that I had forgotten. Our anniversary wasn't for four or so months, your birthday was around half a year away or past depending how you looked at it, Jesse's birthday had passed a couple of months ago, and Aubrey's wasn't for months.

My lack of response only seemed to make you angrier. You stood, pushing your chair back with an angry screech, "You know what, I've put up with you coming home late, never when you tell me you're going to. I've put up with eating alone most nights and most mornings. I've let you blow me off for a couple of date nights here and there because I know this is your dream," her eyes narrowed, "But now you're telling me that you honestly don't remember what last night was to your best friend and that's just…" She trailed off, anger welling up inside. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "God, Beca! That's just…" She stomped from the room, angrily up the stairs leaving her sentence unfinished. I flinched as the door to what was probably our bedroom slammed shut.

I rushed to grab my phone from where it was charging. I pulled up my calendar. Tapping yesterday's date, I scrolled down finding two events where my phone had only alerted me of one. The top, given higher priority was a meeting with a couple members of our financial board.

The bottom, my best friend's engagement party. The party that you and I as maid of honor and best (wo)man had planned months ago, the party that I was supposed to be hosting, the party I was supposed to pick up the cake and the centerpieces for, the party I was supposed to give a speech at. I realized exactly what I had forgotten and slammed my fists down onto the counter, cursing.

I tossed my phone carelessly onto the counter as though it were somehow responsible for what had happened. I had meetings the whole morning but would have to cancel some of them. I needed to talk to Jesse, apologize to him. Taking the steps two at a time intent on grabbing a sweater for the chilly day, I was met by the closed door to our bedroom.

I paused outside of the door, the sound of your sobs on the other side halting my movements. I thought about going in, I thought about apologizing to you too but then I thought better of it. You wouldn't want to see me right now, _I_ didn't want to see me right now. I reasoned that if I apologized to Jesse and consequently Aubrey I might be able to gain some footing with you.

So I turned from the door and walked back down the stairs. Grabbing my bag, coat, and keys I pressed call button by Jesse's name. Listening as the long tones continued, I got in my car and pulled out into the street realizing I would have a better shot at talking to him at his apartment.

I hoped that I would catch him before he left for the day. He was working on a small indie movie soundtrack. The studio wasn't far from the apartment he shared with Aubrey.

I called one of my colleagues telling him that I had an emergency I needed to take care of and asking if he could cover for me. He agreed to sit in on one of the meetings and push back another for me. I thanked him profusely and settled back in for the drive.

It was a short fifteen minute drive considering I was early enough to dodge most of the traffic that normally clogged the roads up.

My phone rang alerting me of a call. I ignored it, letting it go to voicemail. I made my way up to their apartment and knocked on the door. It was several moments later that the door swung open revealing a cross looking Aubrey Posen. I was instantly reminded of my freshmen year on the Bellas, but this… this was so much worse. I don't think that I have ever been more afraid of her than I was in in this moment. Her eye twitched once before she slammed the door shut in my face.

I blinked. Twice. This was going well. Sighing, I raised my arm to knock again, only for the door to be opened before I had the chance.

I relaxed when I noticed it wasn't Aubrey this time, but Jesse with a serious case of bed head, still in his pajamas. His face was neutral as he looked down at me. I would almost take Aubrey's stink-eye over this lack of expression. I couldn't tell if he was angry, disappointed, or still half-asleep.

"Jesse," I started knowing I probably should have come prepared with some sort of game plan instead of winging it like I was now. "I am _so, so_ sorry. My phone automatically prioritized the events on my phone and it backburner-ed everything for yesterday for some financial board meeting. I didn't even- I mean I know it's- I wouldn't blame you if you-"

"Beca," he cut me off, his voice taking on the same quality as yours had this morning. "You're my best friend." He said simply and I wasn't positive what he meant by it. "You're my best friend and I know how important your job is to you, but…" He took a heavy breath, his shoulders scrunching as he did so. That was an action I could read.

He had never been an angry person, he was calm, he was so calm he was practically Buddha. He didn't yell, he never shouted, he hated conflict. When he got angry, he got calm. It was unnerving especially considering how even his words were as he continued.

"I'm gonna say this one time and then you're going to leave because my fiancé will probably kill you if you stay here any longer and I don't have time to clean that shit up." I looked past him to see Aubrey glaring in my general direction as she violently ate a bowl of cereal. "It's not just your phone prioritizing for you..."

"Jesse-" I tried to interrupt him only for him to raise a single hand and close his eyes before taking another breath. My phone rang again. I swiped angrily to dismiss the call. Jesse shook his head at me.

"You need to decide what's more important in your life and if you don't do that soon, things will get a lot easier when some parts of that equation remove themselves. You're my best friend Beca, but you can't keep doing this. It's not fair to me, it's not fair to you, and it's certainly not fair to your wife." His words washed over me, ice water flowing through my veins as he smiled sadly at me before closing the door.

It clicked in its frame. I blinked at its surface for the second time that day. After several more moments I realized it wasn't going to be reopened.

My phone rang a third time. It was work. I dismissed it with a swipe of my thumb again. With one last backwards glance at the shut door, I began to make my way to my car.

I walked towards my car in the lot. Then my feet carried me past it. My feet carried me ten then twenty then thirty feet away until I found myself walking along a path. Aubrey and Jesse had picked the neighborhood because of its proximity to Jesse's studio and also because it was close to the practice Aubrey was working towards partner at. It was also incredibly close to the beach that I was walking alongside a mere fifteen minutes later.

I didn't know where I was going. I had no clue what I was doing. I walked steadily along, my feet finding the cold sand after several minutes on the path. I kicked along, displacing sand, and shells as I gravitated toward the water front.

I had always loved the ocean. A lot of people loved the ocean for its picturesque views, but I had always loved it for the things that were below its surface value. The water with its constant waves and changing tides, the salty smell that filled the air.

My best friend was disappointed in me, my wife's best friend wanted to, in some capacity, murder me, and you could hardly look at me.

I didn't want to be my dad. I didn't want to turn into some lonely, bitter shell that pushed everyone who cares about them away. I didn't want to turn into some workaholic who sacrifices their family for success. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn't be that person. Yet here I was, holding everyone at arm's length as I selfishly pursued a career that I wanted.

I let out a bitter laugh when I thought about the fact that I wasn't even producing music again, I had somehow become an accountant, my own secretary, and some form of paralegal.

My phone's shrill ring filled the placid air.

_Todd Beckman_

My boss. Without another thought, I tossed it into the rolling waves, hearing the resounding _kerplunk_ as it broke the water's surface. My fleeting thoughts telling me that I would probably be regretting that later, but for now it felt oddly satisfying as though the phone had been an iron ball chained to my ankle, only there to hold me down.

I smiled at the reprieve, at the weight that seemed to slide right off my shoulders. I felt happy, I felt free.

I took my time along the way back, enjoying the way it felt to not worry about what I was missing or what I had to get done before the end of the day.

My good mood continued as I drove home, not lucky enough to miss the traffic this time. Even that wasn't enough to wipe the smile off my face. I had made a decision and I knew without any semblance of doubt that it was the correct one.

I passed the exit for work and found myself in the grocery store parking lot. I shopped quickly, knowing what I needed to make your favorite meal. I dropped the bagged groceries into the trunk and made a quick stop to pick up your favorite chocolate dipped strawberries.

When we were still in the friendship stage of our relationship you had told me that you hated receiving flowers. "All they do is look pretty for two days and then they wither and die. I'd take something edible over some worthless flowers any day. At least I'd get something more than dead flowers out of it." When we finally progressed past that stage I had made it a point to never buy you flowers.

Jesse told me that whenever he wanted to do something special for Aubrey he would get her a single lily. I thought it was cheesy as hell yet I still spent the time, after some trial and error, to find that chocolate dipped strawberries to you were the equivalent of lilies to Aubrey.

I found myself humming through the errands. I couldn't remember the last time I had even sang along to the radio and now I was humming. I couldn't help it. The little voice in the back of my head kept screaming that I was being irrational and that this was a bad idea, but my mind was already made up. And I was going to make you dinner and explain my new plan to you.

You had always been so supportive of me and my dreams. I, in turn, had practically filled out applications for you including the one that eventually landed you your current job. You were worried it wouldn't pay enough, I was worried you would stick yourself in a place where you didn't even enjoy what you were doing just to pay the bills. Your school wasn't in the best neighborhood and could hardly pay for new books every five years let alone keep up with salary inflation for their teachers.

I assured you that we were financially stable enough for you take the job. I knew it would make you happy and even if that meant I would have to put in longer hours I was okay with it. My job did pay incredibly well and that thought was probably fueling the little voice to speak louder. Financially, I knew we could keep our heads above the water for at least eight months before running into trouble.

My thoughts churned on as I pulled into our neighborhood.

It was midday now and I knew that I would have plenty of time to prepare dinner before you came home from work.

Except you weren't at work. The garage opened to reveal your car still in park. Odd.

I pulled the bags from the trunk and placed them on the counter inside of the kitchen.

"Chloe?" I called out, an uneasy feeling building in my stomach. I checked the living room and made my way carefully up the stairs.

Our bedroom door was propped open. I took one step inside the archway, my feet stopping as I noticed what you were standing over. Your back was to me, yet again, but that wasn't what had grabbed my attention. What had grabbed my attention was the large suitcase propped up beside our bed, its smaller partner being packed tidily by your hands.

I leaned my weight on my back foot causing a floorboard to creak loudly, announcing my presence.

"I think this is the last of it," you breathed out. The last of what? I wanted to ask but one look at the closet and I realized it was the last of your things. I watched your shoulders hunch over the bag in front of you as you zipped it shut. "Tell me I'm doing the right thing Aubrey, I just need to know I'm doing the right thing."

You were leaving. My mind grappled for any semblance of control as it finally caught up and processed the situation. You were leaving me.

"I just don't know what else to-" You cut off sharply as you turned toward me, your eyes widening when you realized it wasn't your best friend that you had been talking to. "Beca," you exclaimed, surprise in your voice.

I couldn't look you in the eye, instead my focus was on my nightstand to the picture in the frame there. Our wedding picture.

"You're supposed to be at work." You stated. "Why aren't you at work?" Your voice rose in pitch as you spoke. You were anxious. You probably had been expecting to make a clean exit and be gone before I was even home. My stomach twisted painfully at the thought that you were going to leave without so much as a word.

But I deserved that, I reasoned, I deserved this heartache for all the heartache I had caused over the past months.

"I um, I came to tell you something," I stuttered out, my eyes firmly on our smiling faces in the picture. I swallowed once, trying to press down whatever was building inside of me.

"I didn't- You weren't supposed to be home," your voice cracked on the words causing me to finally look at you. Your eyes were puffy, red, and rimmed with tears. Your voice was scratchy as though you had been crying all day and maybe you had. My eyes flickered down to the suitcases and yours followed.

"I just… Beca, I can't. I can't," you paused, emotions catching in your throat, "I can't do this. I can't stay here and keep feeling sorry for myself. We haven't been right and I know you'll say it's just because of the merger and maybe that is part of it but it's been months, _months_ since we've had a decent conversation about something deeper than the weather forecast. And you," you gave a gesture to where I stood, "you've never been a selfish person. Even before you let anyone inside those walls you spent so much time constructing, you were never selfish, but now it's…" Your thumb was turning your ring rapidly round your finger. "It's like you're not even you. The Beca I loved didn't ditch her best friend on the night of his engagement party, the Beca I loved would call when she was going to be late, the Beca I loved didn't spend all of her time at work and she never brought her work home, the Beca I loved was here, she was actually _here_."

But you had already said enough. _Loved_. You had said _loved_, not love and it was like a punch to my gut.

"And I just can't stay here. I just can't watch you run yourself into the ground. And I can't live here with somebody that I used to know. I need a break. To figure this out. I just need some time, I need some time to be happy again because as much as I know you're not this person I know that neither am I. I am not the person that cries themselves to sleep and spends most of their day waiting for it to be over. That's not me," you finished your winding speech having gained some steam near the end of it and I knew this wasn't the first time that you had spoken the words. I imagined you practicing them in front of the mirror as I often caught you practicing presentations when we were in college.

"I'm going to stay with Aubrey for a while," you lugged the small suitcase off the bed and picked up the larger. "It's- I've-" You started and stopped several sentences.

"Hey, I saw…" Aubrey entered the room, her eyes narrowing at my presence. "Beca's car," she spat out looking at me as though I were something stuck on her shoe. "You okay?" She directed the question at you.

"Yeah, could you just take these last ones down for me? I'll be down in a second," you said, not taking your eyes off me. I felt Aubrey burning holes in the side of my head while she collected the luggage. I ignored it.

This was it. That moment everyone always talked about. The make or break moment.

"So, I guess… that's it," you said solidly. Then with one final turn around your finger you slid your ring and band from your finger. I watched as you held them in the palm of your hand. You then held that hand out to me.

I shook my head, "keep them," I mumbled not trusting my voice to produce any more words.

You nodded, pocketing them before looking around the room in one last sweeping survey of it. Your actions had a sense of finality about them that I couldn't ignore. You were done.

Your path out the door took you right past me. You stopped just outside the frame. I didn't need to turn to know that you had. "Beca?" I willed myself to turn but knew I wouldn't survive watching you walk away. I hummed a response instead, letting you know that I had heard. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself? Please." I nodded my head minutely. And then you were gone.

_I love you._

I wanted to say.

_Don't leave._

I wanted to scream.

_Please don't leave._

But it was that time. Make or break time and I had already broken it all. It didn't matter what I wanted or what I needed. I had lost that right the day I started neglecting our relationship.

I stepped closer to the bed in the center of the room. My knees gave way as I collapsed onto the carpet of our bedroom wanting to chase after you, but wanting you to be happy above all. I reached up blindly knocking the frame that rest on the end table over in my search. I cradled it to my chest, clinging to if it were my lifeline.

It was too late. _I _was too late. And not for the first time.

**A/N: So? What'd you think? I love any and all feedback so please don't hesitate to leave a little love in the box below. **

**I know there were a lot of loose ends here which is why we are looking at a two shot for sure maybe three chapters, still haven't decided. I'm not sure what how long it's gonna be for the next update but I'll do my best not to leave you hanging. For the record, I do ship Bechloe so keep that in mind…**


	2. Color

**A/N: Hey everyone! I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter.**

**We've got a POV change for this one. So to clarify all of the****_ I, me, my, mine_**** etc. apply to Chloe. All of the ****_you, your, yours_****, etc. apply to Beca except for the occasional dialogue in which case that rule is sometimes null in void. You're all smart people, I think you can figure it out.**

**Chloe POV**

I was thirteen years old when my grandmother passed away. It was a Wednesday and I was in a rather heated argument with Gavin Adelman over _The Great Gatsby_. No, it wasn't in the curriculum and yes, I had my doubts that he had actually read it. He was a bully and may very well have just picked a fight for fight's sake.

I had always been a bit precocious and as such had taken it upon myself to pour over the city library for more reading material after I had exhausted the school library's rather undersized, and in my opinion, inadequate collection.

For whatever reason, Gavin had taken it upon himself to completely tear apart the book that had quickly become one of my favorites. I was about five seconds from tipping the paint we were using for a project right over his head when our teacher quietly called my name. With one last glare at Gavin, I gathered my things and grabbed the pass from Mrs. Whitman.

I made it halfway to the principal's office when I noticed my mom standing in the hall, a panicked look across her features. She told me that Grandma had died. She told me that Grandma had a heart attack. She told me we were going to go home and tomorrow we were going to the funeral.

I watched my relatives dressed in black on the day of the funeral. I watched my aunts and uncles congregate together, greeting each other with sad smiles. I watched my younger cousins, running around oblivious to the pain that filled the room.

My grandfather stood at the center. He was dressed in a crisp black suit, a bright green tie standing out amidst all of the black. His gray hair was combed and he was freshly shaved. I watched as he accepted the hugs of friends and family. I watched as he pressed a tender kiss to my grandmother's forehead before they closed the casket. I watched as he stood tall the entire funeral.

During the luncheon after the funeral I needed air. I couldn't stand to make small talk with people I normally only saw once a year so I slipped out back only to find my grandfather already sitting there, eyes fixed forward.

I smiled at him and took a seat next to him on the curb.

"You know how everybody talks about love at first sight?" He asked me after some time. I turned to him and nodded. "I think it's bull shit."

I couldn't help the small giggle that rolled out of me at my normally proper grandfather swearing.

"It really is. When I first met your grandmother she didn't want anything to do with me. At first sight, she hated me. I was black and leather jackets, your grandmother, she was bright colors and dresses every day. I had a little bit of a reputation, spent most of my time in school in the principal's office and your grandmother was in charge of half the clubs in school." He smiled at the memory.

I never knew that he was a troublemaker when he was younger. While he never went to college, he was still one of the most intelligent people I knew. He had to have known better. Pushing the thought aside, I listened as he continued.

"I asked her to the school dance and she turned me down. She was the first girl to ever turn me down. I think I was more in shock than anything because I asked her if she had heard me. She replied that yes, she had and no, she wasn't interested.

"It took half a year's pursuit before she finally agreed to go on a date with me. It was another year after that before she told me she loved me. Love takes work, Chlo. Life's not some fairy tale where people fall in love after a day and a shared song. That kind of love isn't real. The real stuff isn't easy. It takes compromise."

He paused for a moment.

"You know your cousin Marty keeps asking me why I'm not crying today," he laughed out.

"Well he always has been a nosey little…" I trailed off not sure if him swearing had given me the right to do the same.

"Nosey little shit?" He asked with a smile and laughed when I nodded. "Well I was going to try to explain it to Marty but I had my doubts about whether he would understand. You, on the other hand, it wouldn't be wasted on you."

I watched as his hands fell to the silken green tie around his neck. He held the tie up, a small smile stretching the corners of his lips up.

"Your grandmother gave this to me for our fiftieth anniversary. She gave me one just like it our first Christmas together. She told me that all I had for work were black ties. I liked black ties, I told her, they were practical. You could never tell when they were dirty. But she just kept buying me bright ties. She was always doing that, adding color to my life even though I never asked her to.

"I was black and she was bright colors. She gave me color to paint over the black and even though she's gone I'm not going to stop painting with the new palate she added to my life," he somberly finished before standing up with my help and dusting his pants off before giving me a hug and guiding me back inside.

The story to this day was one of my favorites. After fifty-six years of marriage he was still as in love with her as he had been when they were kids.

I told myself that when I got older I was going to find that person, the one to splash my black and white world with neon. I told myself that when I found them there wasn't going to be any doubt in my mind. I told myself that I was going marry them and that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

But life, a lot like love, was not a fairy tale. It was real, visceral and it often kicked you right off the path you thought you should be on only to make you fend for yourself in the brush.

"Mrs. Mitchell?"

I was jarred from my thoughts to see Marqueis, one of the most adorable second graders I had in my class, in front of my desk.

"Yes Marq?"

"I wanted to give you this," he said, tossing a bag of skittles onto the paperwork in front of me. "When I'm sad, my daddy always buys me a bag of skittles and sometimes by the time I finish them I don't even remember why I was sad." He shrugged his shoulders at me, scuffing the ground with his worn Nikes. "I know you try not to be but I can tell you're sad so I thought maybe they would help."

I smiled genuinely at the little man in front of me with his Spiderman backpack and checkered button-up shirt. Kids were always so much more intuitive than people gave them credit for.

"Thank you Marq," I grabbed the bag of skittles opening them. Leaning forward as if to tell a secret, I whispered conspiratorially, "but I'm not sure that I'll be able to eat this whole bag. What do you say we split them?"

He nodded enthusiastically cupping his hands. I poured a good amount into his hands before he scooted out the door.

I sighed, my left thumb gravitating towards my ring finger only to find it bare. Sullenly, I looked down seeing the pale outline of what once rest there stand out against the tan skin. I brushed away any negative thoughts and instead let my hand spin my necklace around its chain.

My eyes glazed over the paperwork in my hands.

_Petition for Dissolution of Marriage_

Having a best friend who was a lawyer had certainly helped me in the search for a lawyer of my own. Aubrey herself worked at a firm that had a special division for civil and divorce law and had helped me get in contact with someone quickly.

It had been three months. Three months of separation and I hadn't seen you once. Jesse and Aubrey's wedding and all the surrounding activities would be the first time I had seen you since the day I packed up everything I owned and moved into their spare bedroom.

You had reconciled with Jesse. I could tell by the way he would look down at his caller id before shooting me a panicked look and taking the call on the balcony. He also acted as the middle man for his own wedding plans. You would contact him with details, he would relay them to me, I would give him my opinion and he would tell you and the cycle would continue.

It was ridiculous, I knew that. It was childish, I certainly knew that. Even more childish was my own behavior at even the mention of your name. The first couple of weeks I was a mess. Every knock, every phone call I hoped would be you, but it never was. Three months later, I hadn't seen you once.

That was part of the reason the papers rest in my hands. Maybe it was irrational of me since I was the one who left but I couldn't help wondering why you didn't even put up a fight. How could you let me walk away? I had always been head strong and stubborn but if you had done something, _said_ anything at all instead of staring emotionlessly at my packed bags I don't think it would have come to this, at least not this quickly.

Jesse had tried to casually bring you into conversation after the first three weeks, but I had stopped him. He eventually gave up trying. And while I was dying to know what you were doing, how you were doing, I didn't want to let you in. I _couldn't_ let you in again.

You were my color, the palate I thought I would spend a lifetime with. And maybe that wouldn't make sense to the outside world because I was always the cheerful one, the outgoing one, the bright one. But the outside world didn't know you like I did. Your freshman year you waltzed into my life dressed in muted colors. I never intended for you to become more yet somehow you did. I found color in your words, your humor, your passion for music, your passion for living. I couldn't think of all of that anymore.

See, it was easier for me to pretend you had never colored my world than to remember the gradual dilution of your color back to black. That was how I felt now, black and empty. Hollow. And unlike my grandfather with his bright green tie I didn't have fifty-six years of knowing how it felt to have my world lit up, I barely had six years.

At our wedding you promised me forever, I suppose I should have solidified what your definition of the word was considering you wouldn't even fight for a day longer.

My lawyer told me he could deliver the papers to you or your lawyer himself but I had declined. Part of me hoped that if I did this in person that maybe you would snap out of it and be something that you haven't been for a long time: my Beca.

I flipped through the papers one more time, searching for any errors knowing that now was the last chance I had to change anything without fuss.

My eyes zeroed in on our finances. We had decided early on in our marriage the percentage of each paycheck we would allot to each account whether it be savings, checking, or the amount we would save for holiday donations each year.

I wasn't sure how I had missed it, then again you had always handled our finances. Nonetheless, I was familiar enough with our accounts to realize that there was a large amount of money removed from our savings. Doing some quick math, I estimated there to be somewhere around $4500 missing.

Shaking my head from side to side I tried to think of a reason that you had taken the money out. Our savings had always primarily been stockpiling for when we decided to have children.

When we got married, a little under 4 years ago, we had already talked about children. We were in agreement that they were a definite for the future. However, much like _forever_ we both had different ideas about what the word _future_ meant.

I thought future meant a year or two. So when after that amount of time had passed and I broached the topic several times you said we shouldn't consider it until we had a house. A year later when we had moved into our house you said that we needed more fallback finances. Then another year passed and five and a half months later, the merger began. Now, I was looking at the savings account we had spent years building for our children and realized that we didn't need it anymore.

And maybe that was exactly what had gone through your mind. I let out a bitter laugh at that thought.

I had done my best to stay positive in the past three months, yet I knew that I would probably never look at the world the same. I was jaded. I was kind of bitter. I felt like Ms. Havisham in _Great Expectations_. I found myself thinking that at least Compeyson had the decency to leave her _before_ they got married. I knew I was the one who left, but I had only left physically. You had been emotionally checked out for months before I took any physical action.

So maybe I was more than kind of bitter. The skittles on my desk told me that even the kids I was teaching were starting to take notice. I wanted to be happy again and maybe divorce was the only way that could happen.

I shook my head again before taking the papers and placing them in my bag. I took a glance at the small watch on my wrist.

_4:48_

I had two thoughts. One, I was going to hit traffic so hard and two, Aubrey was going to kill me.

Fantastic.

I picked my bag up off the floor and moved out of the room, flicking the lights on my way out. I smiled at Kyle, one of our janitors, and gave a little wave as he puttered down the hall vacuuming.

I put my car into drive and was immediately gridlocked in traffic as soon as I entered the highway. I wasn't even upset about it. I had stayed at school longer than I was supposed to and now I was stuck in traffic.

I was okay with admitting it: I was stalling. Tonight was the night of the rehearsal dinner, tonight was the first night that I would see you in three months and I would much rather be stuck in traffic indefinitely than actually have to attend this rehearsal and the subsequent dinner.

I knew this day was coming. It had been on the calendar for a year, glaring at me for the past three months.

I secretly hoped you would blow this off just as you had their engagement party but then thought better of it. I wanted my best friend to be happy and a missing member of the wedding party never boded well. The engagement party had taught me that.

I listened to the idle talk on a radio show, letting their dull tones lull me into some sense of comfort.

A while later, I pulled into a spot in the apartment parking lot. I hesitated to take my keys from the ignition.

I didn't want to leave the car. I knew that the sooner I walked into that apartment, the sooner I would be getting ready, the sooner I would be at the dinner, the sooner I would be handing you the papers that would be putting a legal end to our relationship.

I putzed around on my way to the apartment, purposely taking the stairs to waste more time. I stopped outside the door, Jesse and Aubrey's voices, muffled, sounding through the door.

I pushed it open. I noticed Aubrey completely done up and looking particularly polished, phone in hands. Jesse stood beside her in a well-fit suit, with his favorite skinny tie clipped to a shirt beneath. They turned as I walked in.

"Thank God," Aubrey sighed, setting her phone down before turning towards me. Her concern replaced with anger. "I thought you had gotten into an accident or something. Why weren't you answering your phone?"

I took out my phone and noticed it was still on silent. "Sorry Bree, I must have forgotten to turn the ringer back on after school. I was working on something and then got caught in traffic."

Jesse placed his hands on her shoulders, giving her a comforting squeeze to which she visibly relaxed.

"We're leaving in twenty minutes." She walked steadily towards her bedroom closing the door with a slam.

Jesse gave me a small smile. "She's just a little stressed. I'm sure it will be fine." I nodded. "She was worried that you weren't going to show up."

"I would never do that to her," I replied simply. Because I wouldn't.

"I know that, she knows that. It's just after the mishap with the engagement party and uh…" He paused, frantically searching for a way around your name. "Well, she just kind of has it in her head that somehow our wedding is doomed."

"That's ridiculous."

"Well you've got eighteen minutes to prove that it isn't," he said looking at his watch with a boyish grin.

I waved him off already heading towards the spare for the dress that hung in its closet. I didn't have enough time to try and restyle my hair. What I had done this morning would have to be enough. I retouched my makeup and slipped into the dress I had set aside a week ago.

It was a simple black dress, its hem falling a couple of inches above my knees. It was a recent purchase, one Aubrey insisted I buy for this event.

With only one minute to spare before the Aubrey imposed deadline, I paused before leaving the room. My eyes fell on my work bag, more specifically on the sliver of paper showing at its opening.

"30 seconds Chloe!" Aubrey's voice rang out from the kitchen.

I grabbed the paper, carefully folding it so it would fit in my clutch.

"15!" Aubrey shouted.

Walking into the kitchen I rolled my eyes at the sight of her tapping her toe up and down, eyes fixed on her watch and made my way to the door.

The church was thankfully just down the road. As I got out of the back of Jesse's car, I noticed your car already in the lot. I stared at the crappy fifteen year old civic that you refused to let me trade in.

It was Aubrey's hand on my shoulder that brought me back to reality. Her earlier anger completely faded, she sent me a sympathetic smile and linked arms with me while leading me inside the building.

They had decided on a small ceremony with a similarly small wedding party which meant there were a lot less buffers in the room than I was hoping for. You were Jesse's best (wo)man. For groomsmen Benji had flown in from Vegas where he had a very successful and long running magic show on the strip and then there was Jesse's slightly younger brother Aaron.

Aubrey had selected me as maid of honor and asked her cousin Shannon and one of her best friends from high school Jen to be in the wedding as bridesmaids.

I let Aubrey walk ahead of me to greet her parents and her future in-laws who were congregating near the entrance. Jesse trailed behind Aubrey, wrapping an arm around his brother's neck and messing up his hair.

_Boys._

I said a quick hello to Shannon and Jen while keeping my eyes peeled for you. Your car had been here so you were clearly here yet I couldn't seem to spot you anywhere in the church.

After some time, I noticed Benji standing over near where the raised floor of the choir. He was holding about four too many wires and trying to sort them all simultaneously. A petite blonde woman I didn't recognize was trying to help him. I smiled as he awkwardly turned them over in his hand, the blonde shaking her head at him with a laugh when he got the cords crossed.

If Benji was in charge of the sound system I knew there was no way we were going to be hearing anything tomorrow. He was a great magician, but had never quite grasped the concept of electronics.

It was only a moment later that your head bobbed into view from behind the piano and I should have known. You had rewired Barden's entire sound system one night simply because, and I quote "it could be better."

Benji listened to something you were saying, nodding his head and reaching for a specific wire, one the blonde nabbed before he could reach it. She swatted his hand away, still smiling, before crossing it with one in Benji's hand.

She then moved behind what looked to be the church's sound board. You gave a thumbs up and she flicked a switch at Benji's command.

That familiar sound of a mic turning on filled the air and then your voice floated through the speaker.

"Check, check," as though you had done it a million times before.

Benji smiled widely and nodded at the blonde who flicked the switch back off. Benji took a step back, setting the wires down carefully so as to not lose the connection. He accepted your knuckle bump in his trademark socially awkward manner, producing a rose from thin air and handing it to the blonde. She accepted it graciously.

You took some electrical tape off from the piano top and ripped it into strips with your teeth. I saw you wave Benji off, placing the tape on the delicate wires yourself. The blonde moved over to help you. Benji made his way towards us.

I saw your lips move before ending in a smirk. The blonde looked shocked at whatever you had said. My frown deepened when she gave you a playful shove before you both started laughing.

"Chloe?" Aubrey called me over to where she was standing with Jesse and a man I assumed was the pastor given his attire. I let the frown slide off my face, replacing it with a smile that was probably much too large to be considered genuine. "This is Pastor Luke. Pastor Luke, this is my maid of honor Chloe."

I shook the older man's hand with a smile. "Lovely to meet you Chloe," he said returning my smile. "You're probably already aware of this but after the ceremony tomorrow I'll need you and the best man to come with Jesse and Aubrey to act as witnesses when they sign the marriage certificate. Short little event, shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes depending on how in detail the wedding photographer wants to make it. I had one photographer who thought he needed six different angles of the couple signing the papers. Fifteen minutes of my life I won't ever get back."

I smiled, I liked him. He wasn't what I was expecting from Aubrey's favorite pastor. I had always envisioned the man to be a little more uptight.

"And I'll have to pass on the same information to your best man as well if you'll just let me know when said best man arrives..."

"Present," your voice drifted from behind me. I fought the shiver that threatened to run up my spine as you approached. I had always been hypersensitive to your presence. It was part of what had alerted me that my feelings for you were less than platonic when we were in college. I couldn't help it; my body was somehow attuned to yours. It had never bothered me before, but now I just wanted to find the off switch.

"I suppose the term best woman is more appropriate then," Pastor Luke said, smiling widely at you.

"Well I was born lacking some equipment I'm told is necessary for the other title," you said, a crooked grin forming on your lips.

I noticed the blonde hovering behind you, her hands stuck in her back pockets. I wondered what her role in this was. I wondered what her role to you was.

I cast a judgmental eye over her. She was pretty, I suppose some people would say. She wasn't anything too special and she was wearing jeans. Didn't she realize this was a formal event? Apparently not.

Pastor Luke began to relay the same information to you, everyone else falling into separate conversations.

I noticed you looked beautiful, in a tailored dress that seemed like it were made for you and only you. Your hair falling in loose curls I had once told you I loved. You stood with your normal bravado of confidence even though I knew you were secretly still insecure about some facets of your appearance for reasons I was still searching for.

You looked brighter, happier than I had seen you in quite some time. The black circles that were a permanent fixture on your face in the months before I left were no longer present.

My brow furrowed as I continued to look at you. There was something so different about you but I couldn't put my finger on it.

I'm not sure what I expected. Maybe there was some part of me that expected you to be a wreck but clearly you weren't. You looked put together and happy. You looked happy without me and regardless of how indifferent I pretended to be, that hurt.

Your eyes were glued to Pastor Luke, never looking anywhere but.

"Alright then, that's settled," Pastor Luke said, his voice loud enough that everyone encircled us, "Aubrey if you could pair everyone in the wedding party up as they will be in the procession we can get started. Jesse, you'll be with me."

Jesse smiled and threw a wink at Aubrey before following the pastor down the aisle.

Aubrey gave me a half-smile as she turned to the small wedding party.

"Okay so first will be Beca and Chloe, then Benji and Shannon, Jen and Aaron, and me and you Dad," she rattled off quickly before moving to the back and taking her dad's arm.

And I had known this moment was going to come too so it shouldn't have been a shock to me, but it was. Because suddenly you were right beside me and after hearing your voice for the first time in three months it was overwhelming to have you so near. I was on sensory overload. You were near enough that I could smell your body wash mixed in with the smell that was uniquely you.

Your eyes were fixed on your feet, on the worn heels that were found there. I kept my head forward, noticing out of the corner of my eye you opened your mouth several times, only to close it immediately without saying a word. It had never been this awkward between us before. I felt my neck heat up at how uncomfortable the situation was.

My soon-to-be ex-wife and I were going to walk down the aisle together. This was some quality material right here for whatever satirist was interested.

Pastor Luke waved us forward. I heard you exhale before offering out your arm. I took it, feeling your body tense as soon as I had contact. Without my permission, my mind began to remember all of the times you used to melt into my touch. And then I felt my face heating up for an entirely different reason.

By the time we were moving down the aisle my face must have matched the color of my hair. If you noticed, you didn't say anything as we parted to stand on either side of Jesse and Aubrey.

Pastor Luke began an overview of the ceremony, explaining how everything would flow. It was all a bit repetitive given how many weddings I had attended in my lifetime, not to mention my intimate familiarity with my own.

I let my eyes wander to where Aubrey and Jesse's parents were sat huddled together in one of the front pews. I was pleased to see the small blonde was nowhere to be found.

Maybe she had been the choir director or something, although her attire hadn't exactly screamed_ professional_.

Our eyes met briefly as he prattled on, immediately after you took an interest in your shoes again.

We met in the middle of the altar to march back down the aisle. You were just as tense as when we had started. I shook my head lightly having never thought anything would be this… off between us. Then again I never thought I would be filing for divorce either. For now, it was clear that the possibility of us being friends was incredibly out of the question.

When we reached the end of the aisle, you retracted your arm quickly, smoothing the hem of your dress. Your eyes drifted casually towards mine. We stood there a couple of feet apart in complete silence until Pastor Luke put a hand on your shoulder, startling you enough to make you jump.

"You think we'll be able to use the mics tomorrow or should I start practicing my sermon at a shout?" He asked.

"No, erm, it should work for at least tomorrow but you should come with me and I can show you what new pieces of equipment you'll need if you want to make it last," you said casting me one last glance before you began walking back over to the sound board.

"You guys can't be this awkward tomorrow," Aubrey said coolly and I jumped a little. I wasn't even aware she was standing there. I was a little on edge.

"Not my fault," I bit back defensively.

"She's not the one who left," Aubrey countered immediately.

"No, but she is the one who let me leave." I steeled my features letting Aubrey know I wasn't going to back down even if she did this for a living.

Aubrey sighed, "I know this is hard for you Chlo, just… talk to her maybe." I looked over to where you were gesturing at some of the cords below you as the pastor listened intently. That damned blonde back over behind the board. "She's hurting too, you know."

"Sure looks like it," I scoffed, watching you adjust something over the blonde's shoulder. Aubrey gave me a look and I knew it was bad if Aubrey, who normally hated everything that you did, was taking your side. "Bree, it's not that simple. We haven't talked in months. I don't think there's anything to say."

"Please, just talk to her," Aubrey said and walked over to Jesse.

Everyone filtered into their separate vehicles with a restaurant we had made reservations at for a destination. I sat silently in the back of Jesse's car as Jesse and Aubrey chatted quietly about this and that.

We were one of the first vehicles to arrive at the restaurant thanks to Jesse's fast, and sometimes dangerous, driving.

Aubrey walked with poise up to the hostess stand and giving the name _Swanson_, Jesse's last name and what would be her own last name by this time tomorrow. The hostess told us it would be ready in a couple of minutes, Aubrey nodded. I checked my watch to see we were about five minutes before our reservation.

I settled into one of the benches nearby, pulling my phone out only to tap aimlessly on it. I kept my head down as the various people from the wedding party entered the restaurant. It wasn't until I felt that familiar sensation and knew that you had walked in the entrance that I looked up even though I didn't need to.

You stumbled through the door, catching your toe on the rug that lay just inside of it. And then that damned blonde trailed in behind you, helping you catch your feet again.

My feet carried me to the bathroom before I even knew I was moving. I let out a great breath once I was inside of its safe walls. I turned the water on in one of the sinks, bending down to splash some of the water on my face not even caring that I was washing off most of my makeup in the process.

_This was what I wanted_, I told my reflection.

I wanted you to move on. You were supposed to move on… Well I was supposed to move and maybe I had thought that you would just… take up knitting and buy some cats. No, it wasn't very realistic but I think I was supposed to be given a creative license given it was my own imagination.

I wanted this. This is the reality the papers in my clutch would be cementing. I wanted this.

"I want this," I told my twin in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. I made my way around the corner, easily spotting the long table Aubrey had reserved.

As fate would have it, the only remaining spot was right next to you. And that blonde was seated across from you next to Benji. I gave an incredulous look towards the sky wondering who up there was gunning for me.

I pulled the chair out beside you and settled in, doing my best to keep repeating that sentence again and again.

_This is what I want. I want this._

I did my best to keep my head down throughout the meal. I spoke when I was spoken to and politely kept up conversations with the people scattered to my left, but I never spoke to you. I did my very best to ignore everything about you.

It didn't work. I didn't expect it to. I tried to ignore the way your arm brushed up against me occasionally and how you would snort sometimes when you laughed suddenly at something Benji or Jesse would say. I tried to ignore the way your hand played with the base of your wine glass. I tried to ignore the fact that you were sitting right next to me but I couldn't.

Halfway through the meal I gave up. I politely folded my napkin and excused myself from the table. I needed air. I'd had enough ignorance, now I needed air.

The crisp spring air greeted me as I entered the empty patio. I leaned against the rail outside.

It looked like rain. I tasted the saltiness of the nearby ocean but felt the winds of the impending storm. I breathed them both in, hoping that maybe they would help any of this make sense.

And then you were there, before I even looked over my shoulder I knew you were there.

"Hey, um," your hesitation evident in your words. I could imagine you pinching the bridge of your nose, as you often did when you were stressed. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head from side to side, not believing that of all the possible words for you to choose, those were your first words to me in three months.

"What are doing out here?" I asked, my voice a little more defeated than I was hoping it would be.

"I wanted to check on you," I spun around leaning my back into the rail as I arched an eyebrow at that response. You were wringing your hands in front of you, your foot tapping out a beat to the song inside of your head. "And Aubrey may have threatened my life if I didn't go."

That sounded about right.

"She told me that if we don't talk tonight we're going to ruin her wedding," you said, taking a few slow steps towards me.

"She told me the same thing," I said with a small laugh.

"Something about our awkwardness overshadowing the beacon of love she and Jesse are trying to erect tomorrow," you said, staring at your hands.

I gave you a puzzled look, "She didn't tell me that."

Your eyes shot up to mine, "Oh well, all the same really since nothing got through after she used the words erect and Jesse in the same sentence." Your face scrunched up as you shuddered at the thought.

I smiled, giving you the confidence to step forward to the rail beside me. You leaned up against it on your elbows, hair blowing back with the increasing wind.

_This was my decision_, I told myself grasping my clutch tighter, _I wanted this, I needed this._

You had given up on our relationship months ago, I deserved better than to be treated like a nuisance that you couldn't be bothered with. I deserved better than to be placed below work on your list of priorities. I wanted a love like my grandmother and grandfather, a love with bright ties and promises that actually meant something. I thought I wanted that love with you. I guess I should have asked what _you_ wanted earlier on.

"How many people do you think Aubrey's going to bitch out tomorrow?" You asked, a small smile on your lips.

I turned back around, facing off the patio in the same direction that you were before replying, "At least eleven."

"Wow, not a lick of hesitation to jump right into those double digits," you laughed and I couldn't help but join in.

"You've met her, I'll actually be happy if we make it through the day without her throwing up on someone."

"Oh God, I just hope their honeymoon isn't anything like their first time." My brow furrowed and you picked up on my confusion. "She never told you about that? Really?"

I shook my head.

"Well you didn't hear this from me, Aubrey would hate me even more if she knew that I knew about this-"

"She doesn't hate you," I stated falling easily back into the old argument pattern we jokingly used to have.

You chose to ignore it, "And I didn't hear this from Jesse because who knows what she'd do to him if she knew he told anyone about it. So…"

"Basically this conversation never took place?"

"Exactly," you nodded before beginning the story giddily, "So Jesse invited Aubrey over for dinner at his apartment. Benji was at some expo in New York or something so they had the apartment to themselves. They ate dinner, had dessert and were watching a movie when things started to get a little heated. So they started to make their way to Jesse's bedroom and, well, Aubrey being Aubrey was of course prepared for this very occasion. She told Jesse she was just going to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable. Anyways she comes out of the bathroom in some sort of outfit I never want to even think about her wearing and she's trying to walk over all sexy to Jesse and I guess as she's crawling towards him on the bed she kind of threw up everywhere."

"She didn't…" I was unable to hold my laughter in. It bubbled up and over as I imagined the scenario taking place.

"Oh she completely did. She was really nervous," you giggled out.

"I can't believe she never told me that," I said when I was finally able to catch my breath.

"Somehow they still had sex that night. No other person in their right mind… They're freaking made for each other I swear," you laughed.

And for a minute I let myself forget. I let myself forget that you neglected us. I let myself forget that we weren't an us anymore. I let myself miss this.

I missed being able to laugh with you about our ridiculous best friends. I missed talking to you without there being a fight.

"Yeah, they are," I said solemnly.

Your hands in front of you, I caught a small shine on one of your fingers. I was surprised to notice it was your wedding band and engagement ring, the rings I had given to you.

Noticing my stare, you pulled your hand back sliding the rings from your finger.

"I've… uh been meaning to give these back to you…" You fidgeted in place bouncing from one foot to the other, a tell that the next line out of your mouth was going to be a lie. "I just kept wearing them so I wouldn't lose them before I could give them back so here," you thrust them in front of my face.

I sighed, "Keep them." Mirroring your words to me three months ago. You slid them back onto their proper home and turned forward once more. The sky was getting darker, the storm nearly over us by now.

"Can I ask you something?"

Your lips turned up at the corners and I knew you were itching to tell me that I already had. You nodded once.

"I was looking into our accounts yesterday and I noticed a chunk missing from savings," I broached the subject lightly. "I'm not mad or anything. I mean most of it is your money anyways I guess I'm just a little curious what you're using it for."

"About that. I've erm, I, I um didn't really know how to bring it up but Chloe, I-" You started, but your words were cut off by the shrill ring of your phone. Your eyes fell shut. I shook my head. Nothing had changed. It had been three months and nothing had changed.

"Let me guess, work?" I asked, my tone acerbic. You didn't deny it. Nothing had changed. "What, can't go a single night without a call from them, can you? I guess I shouldn't be that surprised that you'd tell them to leave you alone on the night before your best friend's wedding. You still can't block off time for anyone but yourself, can you? Why should I be surprised? "

"No, it's not-"

"Save it Beca, you don't have to explain yourself to me anymore," struggling with the clasp on my clutch I finally broke it open. Taking the neatly folded papers out from inside, I pushed them into your hands.

Your phone, still ringing, was the only noise in the air as you stared at what I had just placed in your hands.

"Chloe…"

"If you have any questions, just get in contact with my lawyer…"

"Chloe."

"I stapled his card to the back. He works in Aubrey's firm. He's supposed to be one of the best in the area…"

"Chloe!" I stopped rambling as you nearly shouted at me. The wind whistled around us, having picked up considerably since we first stepped out here. I waited for you to say more, but you didn't. You just stared at me, your hands balling up into fists and crinkling the paper inside of them. Your face was completely blank, emotionless.

"Nothing ever changes does it," I said under my breath. As if on cue, your phone rang again.

"Take it, otherwise they'll just keep calling," I muttered before adding one last comment.

I turned my back to you and walked away. It was too reminiscent of the last time we had seen each other.

I felt exactly how I did that day. I wanted you to stop me. I wanted you to tell me you loved me. I wanted _you_. I didn't want this. I never wanted this.

What I wanted was a fairy tale. But life wasn't a fairy tale. _Love_ wasn't a fairy tale. Each step I took away from you pulled me further into the black. I resigned myself to the darkness, wondering if I was ever meant to find color again.

**A/N: Don't kill me now, although I'm sure it's tempting. I still haven't decided on a length for the overall story but there will be plenty of Bechloe interaction in the next chapter.**

**Thank you, again, to everyone that reviewed and read the last chapter. Even if you don't have an account, I accept anonymous reviews and I LOVE feedback. I also appreciate corny (and punny) jokes, favorite quotes from the chapter, etc.**

**Feel free to skip over the next line if you don't want to know…**

**I love happy endings to stories so keep that in mind while you're incredibly angry at me.**


	3. Tachycardia

**A/N: So first off thank you so much to every single one of you that reviewed last chapter and on the first chapter as well. I love to hear what you guys think and I appreciate you taking the time to leave your thoughts in that little box at the end of the chapter.**

**Moving on, we're back to Beca's POV this chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

**Beca POV**

_"Beca!"_

_I ignored your voice behind me, picking my pace up despite the pain I felt with each step. Wearing a brand new pair of heels for a night out without taking the time to break them in, not one of my better ideas._

_"Beca! Slow down," you shouted._

_I pushed through a small pack of smokers that were currently gawking at the scene we were creating._

_"You're being a child right now," you said, your voice taking on the quality it often did when you were talking to the kids in your class. I hated when you directed that tone towards me._

_I scoffed before putting my head down fully intent on making it across the street before the hand stopped flashing. Unfortunately, my legs didn't seem to be long enough to help me complete that task. The big orange flashing hand froze in place as the street light turned green effectively stranding me on the sidewalk before the crosswalk._

_You stopped beside me, hardly out of breath at all. I made a mental note to start using that gym membership I had purchased a couple of months ago._

_I refused to turn to face you knowing I would find a winning smile on your face. It was clear to see you were pleased with the light for working in your favor._

_"Now then, are we going to discuss this like rational adults or am I going to have to chase you through the whole city? Because if that's the case, at least let me run back to my car quick, I've got much better shoes for this in there," you said a playful lilt to your words._

_I scoffed again. You didn't even realize. You could be so damn oblivious sometimes. You always saw the best in people. It was one of the many things that I loved about you but the fact that you couldn't even see this was beyond me. _

_It was so glaringly obvious even Benji had commented about it. Benji who told me that he thought you might have a little thing for me after we had been dating for around 6 months. He didn't notice these kinds of things yet somehow he had noticed this and you still hadn't._

_"Not going to talk to me?" You asked. I didn't reply, crossing my arms in front of myself petulantly and glaring at the light to change so I could start walking again. "Fine. I'll just be walking right beside you when you finally decide to grow up."_

_I tossed an aggravated look in your direction. You had already called me a child and now you were telling me to grow up. You knew I hated being compared to children. It had to be something with my height and the fact that my id always got quadruple checked when I tried to buy something from the liquor store. I knew I was small, but c'mon two times is enough creepy man behind the counter I am old enough to buy liquor!_

_The light changed and I took off. After your initial surprise you matched my stride as I power walked away. I noticed you cast me sideways glances every few steps probably wondering how long I was actually going to keep this up._

_"I'll just be right here…" You said as we continued down the sidewalk. "Not saying anything, just right here. Silently waiting." I bobbed my head and continued walking. "Silently." I rolled my eyes at your obvious misperception of the definition of silent._

_It was several blocks before we were stopped by that obnoxious orange hand once again._

_I knew the silence you had finally allowed was getting to you more than it was to me. You had nothing against silence but I knew when it was uncomfortable silence it put you on edge. _

_I didn't mind silence. I had always been better at dwelling in it than you. Currently I was turning over chord arrangements for a new mix in my head and trying not to notice you sneaking peeks over at me._

_"Are you at least going to tell me what I did wrong?" You finally cracked. I felt my lips quirk up in a half-grin at my prediction coming true before wiping my face blank again. "No? You're not even going to tell me what has you storming away from all of our friends, away from a club that you spent all week talking about? Not even a hint? Nothing?" You huffed out, the frustration evident in your voice. "I'm sorry I was late, I didn't mean to be. If that's what this is about then-" _

_I looked once more at the orange hand before whipping around to face you._

_"Why did you bring her?" I blurted._

_"Why did I bring…?" You trailed off, your confusion melding into understanding. Then understanding faded to anger. "You're honestly throwing a tantrum because I brought a coworker with me?"_

_I threw my head back in laughter incredulously. "God, Chloe that's exactly it. I'm not 'throwing a tantrum,'" I mockingly threw air quotes on the phrase, "because you brought a coworker I'm mad because you brought _her_!"_

_"Beca, I've told you a million times she's not interested in me. She's new in town and I'm not going to stop being her friend because you've been 'getting weird vibes,'" you used air quotes as I had, mocking me now._

_My "weird vibes" were not only my own. Almost every one of our friends who had the misfortune of meeting that… girl confirmed "my weird vibes." Of course none of our friends had ever brought up their findings leaving me to be the only one that occasionally voiced her opinion. Meaning I looked like a paranoid, jealous girlfriend._

_The worst part was that conniving little bitch knew what she was doing. Your "coworker" would toss me a smug grin every time you were near her. She would wait until you left the room to unleash her less than friendly comments about my career. She made no effort to avert her eyes when you would bend over to pick up your dropped phone. And tonight she copped a feel in front of me. Between her outright flirting and blatant staring, her hand on your ass tonight was the breaking point._

_You had always been more touchy feely and hands on than most people and I had always done my best to keep that in mind when a spark of jealousy would flare unnecessarily. I never doubted you were faithful, not once. I also had no doubt that your coworker was taking advantage of your kindness. _

_I shook my head, moving to take off walking again but you lightly grabbed my forearm pulling me back to our conversation._

_"You've got nothing to worry about," you rasped, sweeping a chunk of my unruly hair behind my ear. "I'm in love with you and Elle knows that."_

_My resolve was breaking. It was mildly embarrassing the effect your touch had on me hence my unwillingness to slow down when you had called for me. I knew as soon as you were within arms' reach, I'd forget what I was angry about. You were leaning in closer to me and I knew that as soon as your lips touched mine I wouldn't have any ground to stand on._

_I noticed the smirk on your lips and almost laughed. You knew the effect you had on me and right now you were fighting dirty. Using that voice on me was cruel._

_I gently pried your arms from around my neck and took a step back, not missing the streak of disappointment in your eyes when they reopened._

_"No, Chloe. It's not you that I'm worried about. She flirts with you in front of me, she clearly hasn't taken the hint. Even if you don't mean them that way you inviting her out tonight, you getting lunch with her, you breathing near her- she thinks you're coming onto her and she's constantly coming onto you," I threw my hands up in exasperation._

_"Oh please, she's probably not even gay!" You exclaimed._

_"Chloe, baby," I said in a purposely patronizing tone, "I mean this in the nicest possible way because I love you but you have the world's worst gaydar."_

_"I. Do. Not!" You scoffed, your jaw hanging open in disdain. Random people flooded around where we stood._

_"You thought Cynthia Rose slept with a Treble at aca-initiation night," I deadpanned._

_"Well, she- I thought- Beca Mitchell that is not the point," you finished in bravado. "Elle is not gay. I know she's not gay."_

_"Have you asked her?"_

_"Well… no, but I-"_

_"Have she ever mentioned men in a romantic sense?"_

_"That's hardly-"_

_"Have you seen how she dresses?" _

_"Well that's just a stereotype. Besides you two actually have similar wardrobes!"_

_"Yes dear, and I'm incredibly gay. I didn't think that would be news to you," I retorted unable to not be a smartass in this situation. "Besides she looks at your ass like she's found a new religion." _

_"Oh knock it off," you went to playfully hit my shoulder. I dodged your attempts easily, stepping into you. Walking away from the situation probably wasn't the best way to handle it. I should have just stayed and talked to you. Winding my arms around your back, I let my thumbs trace a familiar pattern._

_"Does she really look at my ass that way?"_

_I sighed leaning my forehead against yours._

_"Yeah and she grabbed a nice handful of said religion tonight. Tell me you didn't notice that, Chlo?"_

_You bumped my nose with yours. "Okay so maybe I noticed that…"_

_"Well that one I can't even blame her for. You do have an amazing ass," I said congenially, allowing my hands to drift lower from your hips until they neared said amazing ass. You swatted my hands away and barked out a laugh._

_ Your left hand moved to cup my cheek, your thumb tracing my along my cheek bone. I leaned into your touch._

_"I'll talk to her if that helps any," your breath mixed with mine because of your proximity._

_"It does, even if I'd rather your talking," I said emphasizing the word, "was a little more like Aubrey's when she has 'talks' with me." Those talks mostly consisted of yelling and passive aggressive remarks. Elle could use some of each of those._

_You laughed and I let my eyes slide shut at the sound. If that were the last sound I ever heard, I reasoned life wouldn't have ended so badly._

_I felt myself being drawn in, leaning closer until I found home in your lips once again. I let you dictate the pace, your lips taking a particular interest in my bottom lip. I sighed as my heart began to beat unsteadily as it often did at your touch._

_After a few too short moments, your lips slowed against mine. I placed a couple of lazy, easy pecks on your lips before pulling back just far enough that our lips were no longer touching._

_I don't think I would ever get used to this. I had grown up with a rather distorted view of what love was. I watched my parents fight and argue almost every night that I grew up. I listened to snarky words and hurtful comebacks. I became a cynic at age thirteen and I was happy in my cynicism until you came along and held my hand until I finally knew what all those saps were talking about. I didn't think it was possible to love someone as much as I loved you until suddenly I did. It was you that broke down the walls I had spent so long carefully constructing, it was you that made my heart speed up, it was you that caused the flutter in my chest, it was you. It was in every kiss, every smile you smiled only for me, every time you tangled your hand in mine that I was reminded that love was real and it was all encompassing._

_"Marry me?" The words tumbled out. I was surprised at the steady tenor that flowed with my words._

_You pulled back, "What did you just ask me?" Your eyebrow arching as you looked at me._

_I hadn't meant to say it, but I had meant it._

_"Chloe Beale, I am so incomprehensibly in love with you that I want to spend the rest of my life waking up and thanking God that you're in my life, thanking God for each day because I know that it will be another day with you. I am so incredibly lucky to have you in my life and I am so thankful for every event that led us to where we are now. We've known each other for five years now and you have made me happier in the past year and a quarter than I even thought possible. Marry me? Please," I added for good measure. Manners could only help at this point._

_"Beca," you said, your hand lowering from where it had been covering your mouth. "You don't have to ask."_

_"Are you sure? I mean I think it's pretty common practice to ask and not jump to conclusions and-" Your hand covered my mouth and stopped my word vomit from continuing to pile out._

_"You don't have to ask because I'm already yours," you stated firmly before hopping up and down like a child. "But I am so glad that you did! Of course I'll marry you!"_

_I threw my arms around you nearly crying in relief then nearly crying for another reason._

_You said yes. You were going to be my wife. I was going to be married to you. I almost pinched myself. In what world does a person like Beca Mitchell get to marry someone like you?_

_You pulled back from our embrace giving me a kiss that was rather daring considering we were still very much in public. Releasing my lips with a pop, you squealed, "We've gotta go ring shopping! Do you think anyone's open this late?" You chanced a look at your watch and then shook your head. "Oh God, we are not going anywhere that is open at this time of night. We'll end up with some rings that are evidence in a murder trial. Well we'll need to go tomorrow then, I could call…" You rambled on, grabbing your phone from your purse._

_"Chlo?" I asked, stilling your hand as you unlocked your phone's screen._

_"Huh?" Your eyes firmly on your phone screen._

_"I've um, kind of already got a solution for part of the ring problem," I said reaching into the breast pocket of the Burberry coat you insisted on buying me for Christmas last year. You always spent too much money on me. I was happy to do the same for you this time. I found the small box easily, familiar with its size and shape considering how long I had been carrying it around._

_"Aubrey helped me pick it out a couple of months ago," I said tentatively handing it to you. You pried open the top, eyes sparkling as you looked at it. "I mean, I set aside five of them or so and then she came with me to help with the final decision. So if you hate it, it's probably Aubrey's fault and we can go back and get another one tomorrow if you-" _

_Your hand covered my mouth again. I hope this wasn't becoming your new way to get me to stop talking. I lecherously thought about how much I preferred your other way instead._

_"I absolutely love it," you said._

_"Then pretend I didn't say anything about Aubrey having a decision in the matter," I replied once you removed your hand as I tried to regain some of my street cred._

_Your eyes flicked from the ring back to my face. "Will you put it on me?"_

_I nodded, carefully taking the ring from its holder and slid it onto your ring finger, a place that it looked like it belonged. You held it up to the street light, a wide grin on your face._

_Your lips found mine again. I smiled into the kiss. You smiled back._

_"We're getting married!" You squealed in excitement again. I laughed out right, feeling my heart swell at the prospect of getting to spend the rest of my life with you._

_You slipped your hand into mine tugging me along with you. I noticed we were heading further away from the bar._

_"Chloe, isn't the bar back that way?" I ventured, pointing behind me._

_"Oh we're not going back," you said confidence oozing from your words._

_"We're not?" I asked, amused and already having an idea where this was going._

_"No, we're going home to have amazing engagement sex on every available surface," you said evenly as I nearly choked on air at your nonchalant use of words._

_"What about Elle?" I stopped walking to query. I wasn't even sure why I was bringing her up._

_You gave me a wicked grin, before pulling me back into stride. "I'll tell her all about it on Monday. Maybe she'll take the hint this time after I tell her about how my fiancé fucked me seven ways to Sunday."_

_I smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. "I love you, Chloe Beale."_

_"I love you too, Beca Mitchell," you stated solemnly._

I couldn't remember a day before that where I had ever been happier. Of course there were plenty of days after that rivaled it in emotion. It wasn't always the big days that made me happiest. Sure, our wedding had been one of the best days in my life and I would never forget the night you told me you loved me for the first time.

Some of the times I loved the most were hardly consequential at all. Like when you would munch noisily on your toast in the morning simply because you knew it drove me nuts. Or how you would always leave the kitchen light on in the new house for me when I was working late. Or how on my birthday you would always wake me up at some ungodly hour for breakfast in bed before you left for work.

I had spent the last five months kicking myself for not holding onto those moments when I was in them, for not realizing their worth until I was long past them. I wasn't mad at you for where things stood between us. Instead I was well on my way to self-loathing for my mistakes.

"Beca?" A voice brought me back to reality. I looked to the other side of the recording booth where Riley stood with the oversized pair of studio headphones on. "Are we running this one again or do you think we've got it?"

I took a glance down at the soundboard in front of me and realized it was still recording. Snapping out of it, I flicked the switch off. I played back what had just recorded and concluded that we were at a good stopping point.

Pressing down the intercom button I informed her, "I think we'll call it a day for now. You can come on out."

She gave a cheerful bounce of her head and strutted out of the booth humming along to the bass line of the song I was trying to wrap with her this week. It would be the cap on her eighteen song album, an album we had tirelessly been collaborating on for the past four months.

I overlaid what we had recorded today with what we already had. It was patchy and would need fine tuning but it was decent enough to get a feel for the song with the new vocals.

"Here," I started, still clicking away, "is what we've got so far." I pressed the playback and watched as she smiled at the combined efforts of the past couple of weeks.

"It's good," she smiled.

"Yeah," I agreed distractedly trying to smooth some of the edges out. "It really is…"

Riley kicked back in her seat asking me conversationally, "Are you ready for today?"

I pulled an eye off my computer to look at her. "Yeah I mean we're wrapped here for the day so that gives me plenty of time to drive to the office and my lawyer has all of the lawyer-y paperwork and stuff so I should be fine there," I replied.

"Beca," she said, making me look up from my work again. "I didn't mean all of that half-assed logistics shit, I meant are you ready for what it means?"

"What it means?" I let out a short laugh. I knew what today meant. "It means she's free to move past all of this, find what she deserves."

"God, you're stubborn," Riley breathed out, absently braiding some of her hair. "When are you going to admit that you don't want this?"

"It's not about that," I pushed the screen on my laptop shut and moved to put into my bag. "It's about Chloe being happy and finding what she needs in life."

"And you've never considered that what she needs in life is you?" The blonde leaned back in her chair once again, game face on.

"She doesn't need me," I said, dismissing that thought. "She needs someone much better than me."

"So you're not even going to tell her about any of this?" Riley asked, gesturing toward the studio we were currently in.

"Sorry to break it to you, but it's not exactly the Taj Mahal of recording studios, Rye," I said as I flipped off the necessary switches to dim the lights in the recording booth.

"I'm not talking about this tiny little building, I'm talking about what you've made of it. I'm talking about what you've made of yourself in the past 5 months."

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Riley, this is all I hear from Jesse and Aubrey. I don't need it from you as well."

"Fine. I'll drop it," she said standing from her chair. "But," she started, pointing her finger at me, "not before I say one last thing. You keep talking about what she deserves. Don't you think she deserves to know what you've done for her?"

I shrugged and let my shoulders fall forward. I was dreading today. I was absolutely dreading everything about it without my friends questioning my every motive.

"Oh and I think the whole thing's bull shit," she added. I gave her a look. That was more than one thing. She held her arms up defensively, "Okay I'm done. I've fulfilled my friendshiply duties. We can move onto the next subject to be addressed."

I moved around her, slinging my bag over my shoulder. I opened the door that connected the studio to the small office space on the other side. I let Riley enter the office before me as I switched off another set of lights and locked the studio door after exiting it.

"You sure you're going to be fine?" She asked as I grabbed a couple of papers off my desk.

"I thought we were moving onto the next subject?" I tucked the papers in my bag. "I'll be fine," I said not entirely confident that I actually would be. "What are you doing later today?"

The normally brazen blonde dropped her eyes to the ground, an uncharacteristic blush floating across her cheeks. "Benji's flying in for a visit."

I laughed. The two were an unlikely couple. Riley was outspoken and crass and Benji… Benji was Benji. I didn't fully understand why it worked but I knew that it worked incredibly well. They were immediately taken with each other since Benji visited the studio when he was in town for the wedding.

I watched Riley stutter and turn into a shy girl. It was a version of her I had never seen before and it was rather amusing. After he had left, she tried to casually ask if he was bringing his girlfriend to wedding. I couldn't help laughing in her face at how obvious she was.

It had taken some gentle prying on my part to get the two together. I liked to think I had a knack for matchmaking.

When Jesse was being a toddler about his feelings for Aubrey I had told him to meet me for dinner at restaurant and you had told Aubrey to do the same. They got the message when neither you nor I showed up and there was a reservation for a table of two under Jesse's name. Despite their pretend anger at the situation, it was the shove they needed in the right direction. And now they were married.

I'm not saying I'm Cupid or anything but my hundred percent success rate thus far certainly blows his out of the water. If I trusted myself anywhere near human beings with a bow and arrow he might have some competition.

"I think we were going to get dinner somewhere. I bet I could change the reservation to three if you wanted to come," Riley offered.

I shrugged her off. "No, I don't want to gate crash. You guys don't get to spend much time together as it is. I'll drag Jesse out to the bars instead."

Riley gave me a concerned look.

"What?" I asked. "I think I'm allowed to have a drink on the night my divorce gets finalized."

"I thought you said it was just another divorce preceding?"

"It is, it's just if there's no dispute today it's basically the last step. I mean the actual divorce probably won't go through the courts for another six months or whatever time bureaucracy deems appropriate, but this is the last step for our actual involvement," I said, making my way to the door. Riley trailed in my wake, grabbing her purse off a chair in my office.

"Well you look hot if that helps at all," Riley stated, turning the attention away from my last statement.

I looked down at my outfit. I had chosen a black, professional pencil skirt to pair with a blue blouse you had bought me for my birthday last year. It seemed like half the things I owned had been purchased by you. I had never been much of a shopper and you had taken it upon yourself to update my wardrobe whenever you saw fit, which was often. I scuffed the pavement with my heels, the same heels that I was wearing on the day I asked you to be my wife.

I clung to the small reminders that you used to be in my life, while the large ones overwhelmed me.

"It helps a little," I admitted, pulling Riley in for a parting hug before telling her to say hello to Benji for me. Taking a breath, I made my way across the street.

I had recently signed a month to month lease for a small hole in the wall apartment down the street from the studio. Our house had become too much. There were the ghosts of what we used to be around every corner and I didn't want to be haunted anymore.

I made my way to the apartment parking lot, finding my car in its rightful spot. It was a short ten minute drive to Aubrey's office from there.

Despite the less than amicable relationship Aubrey and I often had, she still offered to help me find a lawyer. She allowed me to have the pick of any of her colleagues to handle the divorce.

The night of the rehearsal dinner I had been blindsided. I felt my stomach drop into my feet as I remembered your cold expression as you handed over the papers that destroyed any hope I had of possibly getting you back.

The minute my phone had rang I knew that I should have left it back at my office. I never took business calls outside of work anymore but I was waiting to hear back from a music festival about Riley running a set.

Riley was incredibly talented, someone I could see rising fast on the music scene after taking it by storm. She needed these kinds of events and since her manager ran for the hills after everything went down I owed it to her to help her get back on track.

I had no doubt her album would blow up once it finally dropped. The limited knowledge I had of the PR industry told me she had to get her name out there before any of that could happen. The festival was the perfect opportunity to do just that.

I had entered her name and a demo hoping the festival would bite. It took weeks and I had nearly forgotten about it until I received an email from them on the day of the rehearsal dinner. As it were, they gave priority stages to those easiest to get in contact with. The email informed me that they would call sometime that day. It required me to chain myself to my phone for the day waiting like some teenage girl for her crush to finally call.

And of course it rang the second I was with you. It couldn't have rung when I was in my car on my way to dinner or when I was working with Riley and Benji on the church's sound system. It had to ring in front of you. You asked me if it was work and I couldn't lie to you, I never could. It was work, but not in the same capacity as you had dealt with in the months before you left me.

You handed me the papers and I wanted to yell that it wasn't right, that I didn't want a divorce. But once again, it wasn't my place. If you wanted me out of your life then that was what would happen. I had given you space after you left, thinking that if I made myself more like the Beca you used to love that you would maybe, possibly give me another chance.

I was going to tell you everything that night. I was going to tell you all about what I had been up to the past three months. I was going to tell you how much I needed you. Until you handed me those papers that sealed my fate.

I wanted to argue. However, I didn't want to be my father. I wouldn't force you to stay in a marriage you wanted nothing to do with like he had to my mother. I wouldn't do that.

You had always been my greatest weakness. You could ask me for anything and I would have given it to you. If you had asked me to stop mixing music I would have done just that, and probably hated it but I still would have done it. The point was you could have asked for anything. Instead you asked for divorce and I could never deny you.

I pulled into a parking spot in the lot of the upscale office. Taking a shaky breath I stepped out of my car. Smoothing my skirt, I walked to the entrance. The elevator took me to the appropriate floor and I checked in with my lawyer's receptionist.

A minute later, the fresh-faced, expensively dressed man came out to greet me. This was his first divorce case he was working on his own. When Aubrey told me she could set me up with the best, I kindly declined her offer.

I didn't need the best. I wasn't going to dispute anything. I had decided early on that I would agree with whatever you decided.

With that in mind, I asked Aubrey to find me the least experienced person on staff. The way I saw it someone ought to benefit from this, why not a kid fresh from law school. He could use the experience to better his career.

"Mrs. Mitchell," he said extending his free hand to shake mine. In his other hand rest his briefcase.

I gave him a grim smile, "Mr. Barott."

He ushered me down the hallway towards a conference room.

"So everything is in order from our part. I was talking to Robert, er…" He stumbled awkwardly over how to address you. His face turned bright red as he let out a number of vowels and other incomprehensible sounds. The guy would have to figure this out if he wanted a career in divorce law.

"Chloe's lawyer?" I asked trying to put him out of his misery.

"Yes! Chloe's lawyer Robert and I talked earlier and everything should run smoothly. We will simply read through the finances and shared possessions. If there is anything you don't agree with let me know and I will do the talking. It's important that you let me do the talking otherwise it's possible that Robert could find a way to use whatever you say against us if this turns South," he said succinctly.

He could use some work on his people skills as well.

"It's not going to go South," I said as we closed in on the closed conference room door.

"No!" He exclaimed, backtracking on his earlier words, "It won't go South, I'm just saying that if it does, by chance, which it won't, go South… then we…" He rubbed at the back of his neck as we stood outside of the door still. "Look, all of the divorce precedings I've sat in on the lawyers are the only ones who talk. Robert's the best divorce lawyer in the firm, I just want, I want to look professional."

He had a good heart and would probably be a great lawyer someday. For now, he needed to loosen up a little.

"Then you should probably zip your fly Derrick," I said in jest before walking into the conference room. I noticed him looking down at his pants in my periphery.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding when I took note that you weren't there yet. That relief was short lived when you walked through the door with an aggravated Derrick behind you and what I presumed to be Robert.

Derrick sat down next to me, opening his brief case to pull out a folder.

"For the record, my fly was _not_ down," he whispered from behind the open brief case.

I bit the inside of my cheek to hold in a retort and already I wanted this to be over.

You were sat across from me, dressed in one of those sweaters you always loved even when it was the dead of summer. And you looked so painfully beautiful I couldn't stop myself from remembering the day I first met you at that activities fair.

Maybe this would have never happened if I had just walked by, if I had ignored your booth entirely that day. Maybe I wouldn't be here as our lawyers began the technical portion of the discussion. Maybe I wouldn't be stuck here trying and so desperately failing not to remember every moment I had spent with you.

"Are you okay?" Derrick whispered to me again. I looked around to notice the packet he had placed in front of me. I nodded and opened the packet to the second page where he began to read. Your lawyer spoke for you here and there only making small adjustments to the drafted settlement.

It was odd being in your presence again for the first time since the wedding. After you handed me the papers, I calmly walked inside to retrieve my bag and inform Jesse that I wasn't feeling well. You were nowhere to be found. I asked Benji if he could give Riley a ride home for me and threw a wink in her direction before heading out.

I went home and immediately began working on a new mix, working on anything to get my mind off the papers that were currently in the kitchen. It was fifteen minutes into mixing that my vision blurred. Water droplets fell onto my laptop keyboard. I raised a single hand to my cheeks and took note of the moisture there. I let myself fall over the proverbial cliff, finally letting myself break down over losing you.

It was the first time that I had no hope for the situation. It was the first time since that first night that I gave up.

When I arrived at the church the next day, Jesse gave me a lingering hug that told me he knew exactly what had happened the previous night. I did my best to keep my face neutral. I told myself that I could be indifferent, but I was lying.

Aubrey had pulled me aside to the bathroom briefly before the pictures began. She gave me a sympathetic and so entirely not Aubrey half-smile and brought out concealer, that I must have forgotten that morning. She dabbed gently underneath my eyes where I knew dark and angry circles must have rested. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder afterwards and led me back out to the group.

I did my best not to even look at you that day, but my best was not enough. My heart ached as I took in the sight of you in your bridesmaid dress. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"The shared property of 450 W Lawson Street is to be left to Ms. Chloe Mitchell at the request of my client…"

"Wait, what?" Your voice cut him off.

"My client wants the 450 W Lawson Street property and all possessions remaining in it to go to you," Derrick said, matter of factly. "Moving on…"

"That's- No, that's not- Where are you going to live?" You ignored your lawyer's calm attempts to settle you back in, fixing me with a stare.

"I've erm, already got a place. An apartment, it's near the studio," you rolled your eyes at my mention of the studio. I sighed, "Look, I don't need the house. You decorated it, you remodeled the kitchen. It was more your house than mine, you should have it. You can't live with Jesse and Aubrey forever," I finished and gestured for Derrick to continue.

"Now the last matter listed concerns the recent business venture _Mitchell Productions_…"

I stared hard at the paper in front of me. I folded the corners of it in my hand. Somehow, I could still feel your eyes on me.

"Since the business venture was began after the separation, I don't see there be any reason to delve into those separate finances. However, my client has stated that she is willing to discuss the matter further if necessary."

"What business?" Your voice rang out again.

"Chloe," I overheard your lawyer tried to placate you again. My eyes had found the grain of the table in front of me, my fingers now silently tracing their pattern.

"No Robert," you stated firmly, "Beca, _Mitchell Productions_?"

My eyes shot up to yours as soon as you said my name.

"If there is reason for further discussion then perhaps we should conduct that privately with our clients. Robert, don't you agree?" Derrick tried.

Your lawyer opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off.

"Why don't you both take a step outside for a minute," you softly suggested to the lawyers, although it was less of a suggestion and more of an order than anything.

"Beca, I do _not_ advise having any sort of discussion without counsel in the room," Derrick spoke steadily in my ear.

My eyes never leaving your own I told him, "Go. I'll be fine." It's not like this was a murder trial and he was leaving me alone in the room with two angry detectives. It was just you.

The two men stacked their papers and closed their brief cases before leaving the room. The door clicked shut in its frame.

_It was just you._

But it had never been _just _you. Every inconsequential moment along the way told me that it had always been you, there was no _just_ about it.

I sighed. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. None of this was right. None of it except for the familiar tachycardia that was beating unsteadily through my chest at your presence.

**A/N: I'm completely aware this is a horrible and cruel place to stop. I did originally mean to have more Chloe in this chapter but the first part kind of wrote itself away and there wasn't exactly any good place to cut it off. We will get the second chunk of this conversation from Chloe's POV next chapter.**

**Feel free to vent your frustrations in that little review box below or tell me how your day has been going. I'm open to any of it. Any feedback (even feedback not necessarily pertaining to the story) is better than no feedback.**

**Take note I have never been divorced so I'm not completely sure how it all works. If I'm way off base, do me a favor and pretend that I'm not.**

**I will do my best to get the next chapter out as soon as I can however midterms are coming up and slowly taking away my free time while simultaneously sucking away my soul.**

**On that uplifting note, I hope you all have a wonderful day! Until next time…**


	4. Real and True

**A/N: I am so, so, so sorry that this took so long. I absolutely loved your reviews, although there were more threats in there then I had been expecting. I'm not worried… I think…? **

**Anyways thank you all for letting me know what you thought! Special shout-out to the multi-bullet point reviews from M and Dunhamnator. I love me some organization. But really, I greatly appreciate each and every one of you that has left me any form of feedback.**

**Let's hope that this chapter actually posts this time…**

**Oh and in case you didn't know: I own nothing pertaining to Pitch Perfect except for this plot and a newfound burning desire to sing A Cappella even though I have no sense of rhythm and would be awful at it.**

**Chloe POV**

I had one babysitter for most of my childhood. Her name was Joann and she lived three houses down from us. One day she introduced me to what I, at the time, considered to be one of the most difficult games ever played. It was simple enough. She would say start and whoever spoke first lost.

Okay, so it wasn't actually a game. I eventually figured out it was her clever way at getting me to stop talking. However, when I was a child I didn't know any better.

Looking back on it, I couldn't blame her for trying to find a way to shut me up. She was in high school when I hit my chattiest stage and trying to do algebra with a seven year old talking your ear off wasn't an easy task. Actually trying to do anything with a seven year old talking your ear off wasn't simple. I should know, I did my student teaching with the fourth grade.

The fact of the matter is most seven year olds like to talk. I'm not saying there aren't shy seven year olds out there, I'm just saying I wasn't one of them. It wasn't that I was a bad listener or anything. I was actually quite good at that as well, but I had learned early on that my ability to make conversation could be an important skill. Since the tender age of five, I made a point to make myself an expert at talking.

Small-talk? I was a pro. Interviews? Never a problem. Speeches? Knocked 'em dead every time. I could talk for hours on end, as Joann had to suffer through every time my parents wanted a date night or worked late. Talking? That had never been a problem for me.

Your eyes stayed locked on mine until the door clicked shut after which they fell towards your hands. My brow furrowed as I observed you.

A business? I hadn't heard a single thing about a business from Aubrey or Jesse or anyone else I had spoken to for that matter. No one mentioned a business, one that had apparently been going on since the start of the separation.

You hardly had enough time to sleep after the merger and somehow you had found the time to start a business. Even though it shouldn't have, I felt my stomach jolt thinking about how you had found time for this butt you couldn't find the time for me.

I was supposed to be over this. I was supposed to be okay with all of this. I had spent the last few months telling myself that divorce was what I wanted.

I sighed as the small voice in the back of my head reminded me that I had spent the last few months lying to myself.

Realizing that you weren't going to be the first one to say anything, I prompted again, "What business?"

Your eyes didn't move from your hands as you mumbled, "_Mitchell Productions_."

I held back a derisive snort. That was all you were going to tell me? "Yeah, I was here for that part. Care to expound on that at all?"

"It's my own production company," you replied shortly. Your face remained stoic. I felt my jaw set in frustration. It was like I was talking to a wall except a wall would probably be a better conversationalist.

Sure, I was capable of holding up a conversation but the blatant one-sidedness of this one was enough to make me want to bash my head against the wall I felt like I was talking to.

I shook my head, beginning to gather my things. I had thought that maybe without the lawyers present you would actually talk to me. That was foolish considering you hadn't actually talked to me for around a half year now. You were closed off again. Somehow you had regressed to the reticent freshman I thought we had long since moved past.

I moved to stand up, my chair screeching slightly against the tile floor. Your eyes shot up at the movement.

"Where are you going?" You asked, panic evident in your voice. A sick part of me was pleased that there was some sort of emotion in your words. Your impartial approach to all of this was infuriating.

"I'm leaving," I said simply, taking a sidestep toward the door.

"Chloe," I heard your voice behind me.

"Don't worry, I'll tell Robert to leave your business out of it," I said coolly, as I reached the door.

"Chloe, wait!" You shouted, your voice desperately on edge. And I couldn't deny there was emotion in those words as well.

Maybe it was that emotion that made me pause, my hand tracing the cool steel on the door knob. Maybe this was what it took for you to actually talk to me. Maybe, I thought, this time you would stop me.

But you didn't say anything. You never said anything.

"Why?" I asked, spinning around to face you. "Why should I wait, Beca? What reason have you given me to wait in the past five months?" I threw my hands up in exasperation.

I looked over to you on your feet, immobile where you stood behind the conference table. I let my eyes scan your features, searching for something, anything, any sort of life. Your mouth opened and closed several times as though you wanted to say something but kept misplacing the words.

I laughed humorlessly. "You can't even say anything, can you? You can't even give me a single reason why I shouldn't walk out this door, can you?"

My eyes clouded as I realized once again that you weren't going to fight for me. You were going to let me walk out of that door, walk out of your life without so much as a word.

The questions I had shelved toppled free: Why wouldn't you fight for us? Why wouldn't you fight for me?

I shook my head, some of my tears tumbling free with the movement. With one last look at where you were frozen I turned back toward the door, ready to leave.

"I quit my job," your voice floated softly towards me. I let out a breath and shut my eyes forcefully evicting more of the tears that had taken residence there. I didn't move. "I was becoming this person I told myself I would never be and I was _hating _it. I was hating going to work every day, I was hating being around music, I was starting to hate everything about myself. So I decided I was going to quit the day you…" A pause. "Erm, the day you left. I was coming home to tell you. But you were already packed.

"So I let you go. I started _Mitchell Productions _the next day. Todd wasn't that happy with me for leaving him high and dry. He made a point of trashing my name to every one of my clients. You'd think I had made enough of a name for myself, but his word put me back to square one. I was basically starting from scratch except for Riley, she was the only one who followed me and she lost her manager and a handful of songs she had written over there because of it."

I turned slightly angling myself in your direction without actually looking at you. I was worried that if I did you would stop talking. Thankfully it didn't stop you from continuing.

"Jesse helped me find a cheap studio for rent and Aubrey's been helping me with the legal side of things, drafting contracts and such. The $4500 from our savings? I, um, used part of it on a 6 month down payment on the studio and to rent the equipment I needed. I haven't touched the money in our account since, even taking that money didn't seem right. Once we release Riley's album, I'll put it back. I wasn't planning on taking any of it, but I didn't have much of a chance at starting anything without it.

"Riley talked a couple of other bands into following me over from Todd's but other than that we're pretty small. I hired an accountant to handle the finances since I've always hated math." You let out a choppy laugh. "I work set hours now. Every day. I've been deejay-ing in a club here and there to pay rent. I don't bring home work and I try not to answer business calls when I'm out of the office."

Your soliloquy seemingly came to its lackluster end. My mind raced as I tried to process. It had answered the question about what you had been doing since I left but not much else. It hadn't answered the question I needed answered most. It hadn't answered why.

I still needed to know, "Why?" I voiced the word that had been repeating itself in my mind, unable to stop myself. My eyes were fixed on the wall in front of me.

"Why the business? Why did I quit? Or…?" You ventured quietly.

Those weren't the questions I needed answered. Did I want those answered as well, yes, but I just needed to know, "Why?" I wasn't sure I had the capability to expand upon the question without allowing it to cloak every action of yours in the past half year.

"Because," I heard you take in a deep breath and release it. "I got caught up in what I thought I wanted and what I thought I needed to do to get it. I let myself be molded into what I thought I was supposed to be. I was working so hard to create this picture of what I thought life ought to be. A house, financial footing, a solid career. Somewhere along the way I got my priorities mixed up and five months ago I lost the most important thing in my life because of it."

I sucked in a shallow breath as I tried to grasp onto your words and the under current of meaning that ran beneath them.

"So I started a business and I set my hours and I tried to be the person I had forgotten I wanted to be. And I gave you space because it was what you needed and I needed to be more than when you had last seen me," your voice caught on your words. My body turned, of its own accord, to face you fully.

I took a step closer to the table, noticing the steady stream of tears rolling down your face. You ignored them entirely and continued on, "And I told myself that if I became that person that you would notice and we would be okay. But then my phone rang and you handed me papers that told me that wasn't how it worked, that I had already messed it all up.

"And I would give anything to make you happy again Chloe, I'd-" You swiped defiantly at the tears on your cheeks, "God, I would give _anything_ to make you happy because if anybody in this whole fucked up world deserves to be happy and carefree it's you. You deserve to be happy, Chloe," you said with conviction.

"And I hate that you aren't happy anymore and it's getting harder for me to wake up every day and know I'm part of the reason that you aren't. I'm the reason you're not happy and I can't-" You shook your head, seemingly unable to finish the sentence.

"You asked me for a divorce," your voice drawled over the words, your shoulders rising slightly before dropping back down. Tears were falling freely down your face, your eyes rimmed red with tears that hadn't passed the circuit. "And I would give anything to make you happy."

My heart thudded loudly in my chest.

"You think that's the way to make me happy?" I asked, trying to get my head around your reasoning. "You think cutting yourself out of my life is what's going to make me happy?"

Happy? You wanted me to be happy? This was your way of making me happy? I had told myself I was fine a million times over the past five months, I had almost convinced myself of the fact. But happy? I panned through my memories of the last five months, I pulled out moments of anger, moments of contentment and everything in between. But happy? I could say without question that I hadn't felt happy since before any of this started.

You shrugged and then nodded minutely, wiping the back of your hand across your face. Your gaze turned downward again and I could tell you were fading back from the conversation. You were pulling back again. And I knew no good could come of that.

"So that's it," I said, letting my hands fall to the chair back in front of me. "You want me to be happy and you somehow think that throwing in the towel because we hit a rough patch is the way to do that?"

"You're the one who left," you mumbled, but I wasn't having any of it.

"Yes, Beca, I'm the one who left but you were supposed to chase me!" I exclaimed. I softened my tone, "You were supposed to stop me."

And you didn't. You didn't stop me and you didn't chase me. You hadn't even tried to contact me. No, instead you set off on some quest for self-enlightenment thinking that would somehow magically bring us back together when all I needed was you.

"Why would I do that when you're better off without me," you muttered, defeated. Your eyes were fixed on the ground.

Your tone was broken. It was as though you had already given up. And I was sick of it. I was sick of all of this. I was sick of being the only one to talk. I was sick of you sitting back in indifference. I was sick of all of this.

I had never had a problem talking before, even one sided conversations had never stunted my ability. But I was sick of being the only one with any words in this relationship. If this was the end then so be it, but the hell if I wasn't going to do everything in my power to hear what you were thinking for once.

I was hitting my breaking point. Maybe if you hit yours we would get somewhere finally.

"For fuck's sake, would you stop being a martyr for five seconds? Your self-deprecating bullshit is getting old."

Fleeting astonishment traced across your features at my word choice before your expression settled and you rolled your eyes at me. I shook my head at the motion. "Yeah go ahead and roll your eyes at me, that solves everything doesn't it? Sarcasm and a biting wit? That's your solution to all of life's problems, isn't it?"

You hardly moved your eyes from the table where your fingers were tapping a steady pattern. I had seen you do just this hundreds of times. In times of stress you would turn to music. I had watched you do just that every time we were forced to have dinner with your father.

You were working on a melody. I was trying to have a conversation with you and you were trying to work out a beat. This was… This was…

"God, could you at least pretend that this is bothering you, that this is affecting you in any way?!" My voice carried upwards.

Your fingers began tapping to a faster and stronger rhythm, but you kept your head down. It was maddening trying to talk to you, completely maddening.

"You're a coward," I said and your hand ceased its movements, for just an instant, before starting again. I had struck a nerve, I only hoped it was one that would get you to start talking. "You sink back into yourself because you think it's easier to push everyone away. You think it's easier to pretend that all you need in life to be happy is music, not people. Like you're somehow above it all. You think because you had a shitty childhood that you're somehow entitled to be some standoffish, aloof asshat," your fingers stopped again. "Maybe if you took half a second to actually think, you would realize that you're not the only person in the world that's had a shitty father."

I watched your brow furrow as your hand slid flat onto the table top with a loud smack echoing in the room. I hesitated a moment, wondering if I was pushing this too far. Your father had always been a touchy subject and it was clear to see that hadn't changed. Silence followed my statement, a silence I felt it necessary to fill.

"There's plenty of successful people out there that have found a way to move past it… but not you, no, not you. No, _you_ somehow find a way to use it to self-destruct every facet of your life, to completely sabotage any chance you could possibly have at happiness while dragging everyone around you down with you."

You laughed bitterly, your eyes flashing in warning to me although most of your attempted intimidation was misdirected by the splotchy patches under your eyes from crying.

"Maybe if you just decided to finally grow up-"

"_Do not_ tell me to grow up," you cut in, finally saying something.

"Why shouldn't I? Huh? It's like you've got some sort of demented Peter Pan complex and you're just stuck. You're stuck being a kid, because god forbid you actually grow up and take responsibility for your own actions-"

"I don't take responsibility?" You cut me off again. "I take _plenty_ of responsibility for my actions, why the hell do you think we're here right now?"

"I think we're here because you can't grow up and stop blaming everything on this childhood you're never going to get back. Maybe if you owned up to any of this we wouldn't be here-"

"Oh I'm owning up, Chloe, I'm owning up and I'm sorry," you sarcastically turned the word over, "that I spent so much time trying to give us a life that you needed, I'm sorry I needed a job that actually paid something so we weren't living on the street, I'm sorry that I was working for our future-"

"Don't you get it?" I asked, distressed. "I didn't need that. If you cut your delusions of grandeur and actually talked to me you would have realized that I never needed _any_ of that. But no, you never once thought to talk to me. Even after I left, you didn't think to talk to me. You just came in here and sat back, agreeing to everything my lawyer said-"

"Oh that's rich! You get to decide we're getting a divorce, but I'm not allowed to agree to it? You're _such_ a hypocrite," your nostrils flared as you stared me down.

"I'm a hypocrite?" I said, my previous train of thought completely derailed, "_I'm_ a hypocrite? This coming from the girl who promised me that she was going to love me, that come hell or high water we were going to work for our marriage?" You were silent. "Did you ever think that maybe just maybe this is what you wanted all along? You play the victim so well sometimes you've got yourself convinced that you were going to end up just like your dad, is it really a surprise that we're even here?"

"You think I want this!?" You roared and I wondered again if I had pushed too far. "You think I want this!? You think on our wedding day I was sitting there and thinking of ways to screw it up? You think this is what I dreamed about when I was a kid? You think when I spent almost every night for ten years hearing my parents scream and bitch at each that I thought to myself: wow, I can't wait until I'm old enough so I can have a relationship like that? You think I sat up late at night and dreamed of a world where I became my father? You think I _want_ to be him?"

Your words bounced around the conference room. All of my previous confidence had faded with your words. I didn't know what to say.

"I suppose it was only a matter of time, me becoming my father. I mean you said it perfectly Chloe, I've got myself convinced that I'm going to end up just like my dad. So why wait, huh? Why should I wait any longer? I've already wrecked our marriage, why not put the cherry on top and become a divorcee before I turn thirty?" You let out a deep breath and closed your eyes. "I never meant for this to happen, I never meant for you to get hurt. I'm… I'm sorry Chloe, that I couldn't be better for us, that I couldn't better for you." Your voice broke on the words.

You frantically grabbed your things and I knew you were going to be the one leaving this time if I didn't do anything to stop you. But I didn't have any idea what to say. For the first time in my life I didn't have any clue what words to string together and you were halfway to the door.

Talking had never been a problem for me. I had never struggled for words. Until now. Because I had already said too much. What could I possibly say now? What could I possibly say?

"You're not your dad," the words tumbled from my mouth.

"You know, I wish that were true but this right here," you motioned to the law office conference room we had been arguing in, "it just proves… I'm my father's daughter and I'm not going to say that I'm okay with it but I've definitely come to terms with it. This divorce… you might not think it now but you're going to be so much happier in the long run. And that's all I want. That's all I want."

"You are _not_ your father," I stubbornly repeated, hoping maybe this time you would listen to me.

"Chloe," you said in a resigned voice.

I took one step closer to you.

"No, you don't get to 'Chloe' me, I know your father and I know you," I took another couple steps in your direction, "and you, Beca Mitchell, are not your father."

You began shaking your head from side to side as I stepped in front of you. You refused to make eye contact. "You want to know why?" I asked, trying to duck into your eye line.

I took a risk and lifted my hand up to your chin, gently lifting your face level with my own. Your eyes shone with unshed tears, their natural blue more potent from the red irritation around them.

"Because of what you just said right there. You told me once that your dad was never much of a feelings person and that he was head strong, so head strong that he never admitted he was wrong. I know that you are not your father because your father would have _never_ apologized and he definitely never would have bothered himself with someone else's happiness," I finished firmly.

"Your father's a prick. He's proven that again and again. He proved it when he put his work before his family, he proved it when he put the drink before his family, he proved it when he left you and your mom, and he proved it again when he showed up five years later pretending that nothing had happened and he brought his other wife and set of kids with him.

"Your father's a prick. And you, Beca Mitchell, are so much more than your father has ever been, you've got to believe that."

Your eyes slid shut, tears rolling down once again. Your head was shaking from side to side in a nearly continuous motion.

Maybe I had the answer to my questions all along. I had wanted to know why you weren't fighting for us when I should have known that was what you thought you were doing all along. For whatever reason you had thought by pulling back that you were saving me from it all. You had always been a cynic when it came to love. It took me a while to dissemble the wall you had constructed and realize that if the pieces of your parent's marriage had been used to construct each brick then your cynicism was the cement that held it all together.

It had shocked me when you had been the one to propose and only a little after a year. I had expected it to take a good decade of me wearing you down to get anywhere near the topic of marriage. At first that thought had petrified me, but the more time we spent together I knew that it would be worth it. I knew that real love was worth the fight because my grandfather had told me just that.

But you didn't have a person like my grandfather in your life. Your grandparents had died before you were born and your parents weren't exactly the paragon of healthy relationships.

Your father was selfish and greedy. He wanted to have it all and he did. He had a high paying job that required him to travel most of the year. He had a fancy car and a corner office. He had your mother and you and he had another family across the country too.

It was all so clear now. You had become absorbed in work and I had left you to clear my head. You didn't chase me. You let me go.

I let my hand trail to your cheek, uprooting the tears there with my thumb. You leaned into my touch. For the first time in five months you leaned into my touch. My body fell into its normal pattern of awareness at your proximity.

"You've got to believe me," I said again and you pulled back from my touch, shaking your head.

You let me go because you thought it would make me happy.

I pushed aside all pretense and gathered you into my arms. Your shoulders shook silently as you gripped onto the front of my sweater. I let out a breath at the contact, placing my lips along your hairline several times before smoothing your hair back in what I hoped came across in a comforting manner.

You let me go because that was the one thing your father never would have done.

I held you as the sobs wracked your frame. I held you tight to me as you desperately clung to my shirt. I held you as you finally let yourself feel something.

"I don't want to hurt you," you choked out, "I_ can't_ hurt you, I can't be that person." And you couldn't see that you already weren't.

I smiled shakily at you, cupping your cheek with my hand again. "How long is it going to take for you to realize that you're not that person, you've never been that person. You're my green tie Bec," I said solemnly and you gave me a watery smile even though you didn't have a clue what I was talking about. "You're my green tie and you've always been just that."

Your thumbs began turning those familiar circles where they rest on my hips. It finally felt like we could get everything back on track.

"Where do we go from here?" You asked.

"Well, I think we've got some things to talk about," I said concisely. "But I don't think we need to keep monopolizing this conference room especially considering that we aren't even going to be using the firm's lawyers anymore."

"What lawyers are we using then?" You asked, your face the picture of seriousness. My heart plummeted. Maybe we weren't on the same track or even the same train for that matter.

A shallow grin appeared on your face. "Too soon?" You asked, wincing slightly. I gave you a playful shove.

_You little shit._

I threw a half-hearted glare in your direction. Trailing my hand down to take yours, I pulled lightly.

"C'mon Mrs. Mitchell, before I change my mind," I said in a teasing tone.

"Where are we going?"

"Home," I stated simply. "We're going home to have a conversation that should have taken place five months ago."

You nodded grimly, giving my hand a squeeze.

"Chloe?"

"Hmmm," I hummed out, absently wiping the remnants of tears from under my eyes.

"I love you," you said, all thoughts of joking aside. I looked you over. Your eye makeup was running down your face, each of your eyes was red and swollen. You looked tired and I didn't blame you, I certainly felt the same exhaustion.

This was the truth. You pushed me away because you loved me, because you hurt me and because you didn't want to be the one to keep hurting me. You hadn't spoken to me and I hadn't listened. Blame could be attributed in more than one cut and dry pattern.

"I know," I breathed. "I love you too, which is exactly why we're going to work through this all on our own. Somebody once told me real love was hard work."

"Whoever it was sounds like they'd figured life out," you replied.

I smiled thinking of my grandfather in his black suit and green tie, the same suit and tie he was buried in when he passed away in his sleep a couple of months after my grandmother's funeral. It was the kind of love that you couldn't read about in the magazines. Some would call it simple, others would call it practical, but me and Grandpa we knew the truth: that love was real love. It wasn't always perfect, sometimes it hurt more than it helped, sometimes it broke you down, but in the end it was always worth it. Despite every bit of heart ache it sometimes caused, it was _always_ worth it.

"I didn't really understand what he meant by that until now, but it's starting to make sense," I laced my fingers tightly in between yours and we walked out of the conference room together.

**A/N: Well…? Worth the wait? I hope so. It took me a good five scrap and retries on the middle dialogue to finally get it to sound the way that I wanted it to.**

**Epilogue is next up, for those of you looking for that happy ending the epilogue might just have what you're looking for… Or maybe it won't. You'll just have to read to find out (I'm a horrible person, I know but give me a break, midterms sucked out my soul).**

**Don't forget to leave a little love (or hate or indifference) in the box below.**


	5. Reminder

**A/N: Hey all! I won't waste much of your time up here reading the A/N there's a longer one down on bottom. **

**Oh I suppose I should mention the title for this fic comes from the Mumford & Sons song Reminder. The album itself (Babel) is pretty fantastic and you should check it out if you haven't already**

** Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect. Surprise.**

**Epilogue**

**Beca POV**

It was late. Not so late that the sun had stolen away beneath the horizon, but it was much later than I was hoping it would be.

I had every intention of being on time. I had left the studio with ample time, even convincing myself that I might be able to fit a coffee run in before I got there only to come to a standstill in traffic I hadn't planned on. I had set aside the appropriate amount of time given normal traffic patterns, but this wasn't a normal traffic kind of day. No, this was anything but a normal traffic kind of day.

So I've got a question, what do you get when a six lane highway is merged down to a single lane? Well I'll tell you, you get chaos. Complete and utter chaos. And angry drivers swearing and flipping each other off as everyone honks their horns incessantly as though that will make any of this go faster.

The worst part: after sitting in deadlocked traffic for forty minutes, I finally came across the reason for the lane closures.

Pigs. There were pigs everywhere. There were pigs being chased by policemen, pigs being corralled by men in plaid shirts, pigs eating debris off the side of the road. Pigs. Pigs were the reason they had shut down most of the highway.

Apparently some farmer, who for some unfathomable reason, thought that bringing swine through LA would be a good shortcut to a slaughterhouse had forgotten to lock the back of their cages. So when they came to a severe enough stop for the gate to pop open in the stereotypical LA traffic, the pigs had just began piling out finally executing their escape plan.

Even in my anger, I had to give it to Wilbur and his many companions. It was an impressive tactical decision and incredibly well executed.

And maybe if I didn't have somewhere to be tonight, I would have reveled in the hilarity of the situation a bit longer, but I was late and Wilbur's escape had made me so much later than I thought possible.

I flipped my car into park as quickly as possible muttering curse words under my breath as I staggered quickly, and inevitably tripped slightly, on my way to the door. Prying the door open, I did my best to tame my hair and smooth the dress that had crumpled on the unexpected long car ride over.

My breathing erratic as my heels clicked with each fast stride I searched for any sign of you. My eyes panned the room to my right, not catching sight of you and I let out a frustrated sigh when you were nowhere on my left either.

My heart pounded uncomfortably in my chest. Every year, every damn year I get a gym membership and never once think to use it until I'm forced into some sort of cardio and can hardly catch my breath. I'll never learn.

A hand glossed my shoulder, "Well look who decided to show up."

I turned seeing Aubrey's lips quirked in a smirk. This couldn't be good.

"Hey, I erm… well you're probably not even going to believe this. I kind of don't believe it myself but if you turn on the news tonight I'm sure they'll talk about it," I started uneasily, trying to gauge Aubrey's response to my words. She barely flinched from her position.

"Oh yeah? What's the excuse, huh?" She muttered coldly.

"I left plenty early but then Wilbur decided to make a jail break today and took all six lanes of the highway down to one," I stated firmly.

Aubrey arched an eyebrow at me, a move I wasn't entirely sure if she had picked up from you or you had picked up from her. My guess was the former but I had never quite been able to concrete my theory.

"Wilbur?" She questioned humorlessly.

"Yeah, erm little pigs like in that uh book with… the spider," I lamely moved my hands in the practiced movement I learned from the itsby bitsy spider.

"The book with the spider?" If possible her eyebrow arched closer to her hairline.

"The book with the spider." I confirmed, wringing my hands nervously in front of me. I was kind of late, yes. Late enough for Aubrey to start the Spanish Inquisition right now? Probably not.

I held eye contact with Aubrey as one of her eyes began to twitch menacingly. Suddenly, I felt a hand snake around my waist as I was pulled flush into a soft body behind me. I relaxed into it immediately.

"What are you two arguing about now?" Your voice sounded. Your lips pressed down to my bare shoulder before your chin came to rest upon it.

"Just trying to see why your _wife_ thought it would be okay to show up thirty minutes late to the dress rehearsal," Aubrey replied smoothly, folding her arms over each other as she switched between looking at you and glaring at me.

"And I explained that there was a freak accident involving multiple pigs and the closure of five lanes but apparently it wasn't good enough for your highness over there."

I felt you shake your head quietly beside me. "Multiple pigs?" You laughed, the heat from your mouth making the hairs on my neck stand on end.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm not making it up," I said turning slightly in your embrace so that I could catch your eye.

You looked me over shortly before turning back to Aubrey and smiling.

"That's it?" Aubrey exclaimed. "She shows up thirty minutes late with some absurd excuse and you believe it. That easy?"

You gave me a smile which I returned before you turned back to nod at Aubrey.

"Well that's just not acceptable. Some of us have a wedding to run here and we cannot run it on some ridiculous schedule where pigs fly in and out of our imaginations while simultaneously ruining the time schedule!"

I opened my mouth to reply, closing it quickly as Jesse gallivanted over to us giving Aubrey a quick peck on the lips.

"Hey babe, sorry I'm late. I dropped Henry off at the babysitter's on time, but then on the way back. You'll never believe it, pigs," he said, his arms flying wildly about as he spoke. I felt my lips stretch into a smile. "Pigs everywhere. All over the highway, it was like _The Great Escape: Swine Edition _but with Wilbur cast instead of Steve McQueen. Thematically fantastic, but it did close the highway down to one lane," he rapidly spoke.

I smiled at my best friend as Aubrey looked from him to me aghast. Her eyes narrowed at my amusement.

She shook her head, rolled her eyes and loaned me an icy glare before storming away.

"That's it Aubrey?" I called after her. "Your husband shows up with some absurd excuse and you believe it. That easy?"

Jesse shook his head happily and then followed her.

"Quite possibly the worst decision Riley has ever made: putting Aubrey in charge of planning this wedding," I deadpanned as I watched Aubrey chastise one of the decorators for hanging a ribbon off center. "It's been a year and a half since she's had Henry, shouldn't her pregnancy hormones have shut off by now?"

You laughed, twining our hands together and bringing your forehead to rest on mine. Your lips found mine with a gentle ease I'm not sure I would ever fully get used to. It was simple, yet it sent my heart into a complicated sprint. It was soft, yet never lacking passion. It was perfect, yet perfectly unperfect all the same.

I sighed against your lips, smiling before I pulled away. "I _am_ sorry I'm late," I told you.

"You're actually not late," you admitted. I gave you a puzzled look. "Aubrey told you and Jesse an hour earlier than the rehearsal started because she didn't want either of you showing up late and 'ruining it,'" you said, putting air quotes around the last part.

I scoffed. "I'm never late anymore. I'm actually offended by her assumption I would be late."

"Well, in her defense, if she had told you the right time you would have been late."

I shrugged and took a look around the church noticing for the first time that Riley and Benji were just getting here themselves. I got here before the bride and groom. That didn't sound right.

"So how was your day?" I asked, smoothly changing the subject. "Anything interesting happen? Did you get a chance to go to Riley's? Any kids profess their undying love for you?" I spouted off in rapid succession referencing PJ, one of your students that had approached you after class to boldly declare that he was in love with you and that one day he was going to marry a girl just like you.

I had to give him props, he certainly was more than forward enough to gain your attention and adorable enough to deflect any possible embarrassment. Plus, I couldn't deny he had excellent taste.

Your expression changed so rapidly, I ran through my words once more wondering if I had said anything to merit such a reaction. Your face was lit up with excitement, your smile so wide it had to hurt. Your eyes bounced with an unfamiliar sparkle and glint. You looked absolutely beautiful, but then again you always did. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I watched you nearly vibrate in place from delight.

"Yes, I went to Riley's. No, no confessions of love. And there is actually something I wanted to tell you," you paused as your fingers found the rings on my left hand and began to spin them around.

"And that is…?" I prompted, wondering what exactly had gotten you this excited. You had been given a pay increase two weeks prior. I couldn't think of anything else work related you might have to share with me.

"Alright people, places, places!" Aubrey's shrill voice cut our conversation short.

"What'd you want to tell me?" I asked again, ignoring Aubrey's drill sergeant orders for the moment. It was a flashback to the Bellas.

Since she became the main contract consultant for my company we interacted more frequently but that didn't mean we were BFFs. Though neither of us would ever admit it, I think we both enjoyed our verbal jousting matches a little too much to give them up for something tamer. I liked to think I was helping her career by never letting her lose her edge.

"Hey!" Aubrey swooped in with a look on her face that made me worried that maybe I was dreaming and this actually was a flashback to the Bellas. "You two, less talking, more separating." I scrunched my face out of her reach as she snapped dangerously close to my face.

"Hold on a second Aubrey, we're talking," I scowled at her.

"Oh you're talking now, but we all know where that leads. Which is exactly why you're not paired up to walk down the aisle together," Aubrey scolded, latching onto my arm in a less than gentle manner.

"Jesus, Aubrey," I uttered softly in surprise. She ignored me and began to pull me away from you. You were smiling at me as I struggled to break your best friend's surprisingly strong grip. "Loosen the kung-fu grip, would you?"

"Bec, it's fine. We'll talk later, yeah?" You said calmly, that twinkle in your eyes.

I nodded as I finally wrestled my arm free and walked of my own volition towards my given aisle escort for the wedding, Riley's older brother Wes.

"B. Mitch, long time, no grow eh shorty?" He teased lightly, his 6'5" frame towering over me. We were going to look so outrageous walking together and Aubrey had to know that. She was trying to assert her power in the wedding by making the most outlandish pairings.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you giant. You mind asking your sister why she decided satan over there would be a good decision for wedding planner?" I asked, nodding towards Aubrey who was frantically trying to sort out Jesse's crooked tie. She cinched it too tight and he grimaced when she patted it down while swatting his hand away from adjusting it.

"Don't need to ask her, she already told me she wanted nothing to do with the planning. What better way to accomplish that then letting the devil herself take over?"

"She's purposely keeping me and Chloe apart," I whined, wincing slightly when I recognized the tone of my voice. I sounded like a five year old separated from their new toy.

Wes chuckled, deep and low. "Now that one's not entirely Aubrey's fault."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well Rye and Benji agreed it might be a better idea to help you two keep your distance at least at the ceremony."

"They what?" I exclaimed.

"Can you really blame them? You and Chloe disappeared five minutes into the engagement party only to pop up right before the end with sex hair and your shirt missing half its buttons," Wes stated calmly.

"I don't think I like what you're implying Wesley," I said in a dignified manner, my nose turned upwards.

"If you think I'm implying that you and your wife can't keep your hands off each other long enough for the ceremony to take place then you're absolutely correct," Wes sent me an easy grin.

"Can you blame me?" I asked, watching you interact with one of Benji's close friends Peter. You nodded enthusiastically at something he was saying. I let my eyes trail slowly up your frame.

"I'm going to be wise and not answer that," Wes said simply, following my eye line.

"Smart man," I conceded. "Aubrey's already freaking out and this is just the rehearsal. Isn't Riley supposed to be mildly anxious?"

Riley was her normal relaxed self, speaking at the back of the pack by herself. Her parents were set to arrive any moment now. They probably got stuck in the same swine traffic as I did.

He gave a noncommittal grunt and shrug, "I think she leant all of her batshit crazy to Aubrey for the week."

"Stop the talking," Aubrey snapped over at us. It was like she knew we were talking about her. I held my hands up defensively.

"Batshit crazy, I tell you," Wes whispered under his breath as we began the rehearsal.

It was quick and efficient, the priest having already talked to Riley and Benji about the specifics before.

The church was kind enough to provide a meal after the rehearsal so we all moved into the quaint dining hall in the basement of the church.

For all of her faults, Aubrey was practically born to plan major events. The hall was decorated elegantly and the table was already set to perfection. Tiny candles were lit down the center of the long table, another table spread full with delicious looking food.

"Hey you," your fingers intertwined with mine and I felt my lips begin to turn up at each corner from the contact.

"Hey," I let my lips stretch fully into a crooked grin as we moved further into the dining hall. There was still some unidentifiable emotion in your eye and it made me wonder what you were up to. I was about to ask when a hand slapped me upside the back of my head. Hard.

"Shit," I turned, seeing Riley standing behind me with a scowl on her face. "What was that for?" I asked rubbing the tender spot on the back of my head.

"You know what that's for!" The tiny blonde said in an accusatory manner. Maybe Aubrey returned the batshit crazy for the night. Shame.

"No," I shook my head, "I really don't."

"You are such a little shit," she continued.

I didn't deny that. You gave me a shrug and left me to fend for myself. I held back a sarcastic thanks as you left.

"You don't know?" Riley asked incredulously. "The hell you don't know!"

"My parents are staying in my apartment tonight." I nodded, not sure where she was taking this.

"An apartment I haven't been in for the past three weeks because of promo events for the new album." I nodded again. This wasn't news.

"An apartment you and Chloe prepped for them to stay in." I continued to nod. You had done that earlier today, we had already discussed that. No problem there.

"So you want to explain to me why my mom came up to me just now after dropping their luggage off there crying hysterically and asking me why her only daughter didn't think to tell her that she was pregnant."

I stopped nodding immediately. "Wait, you're pregnant?" I asked. "Is this a shotgun wedding? Should I be wearing a bullet proof vest? Am I in danger? Is there someone watching us right now? Are they here now?"

"I'm not pregnant!" Riley shouted, the room falling silent before people awkwardly continued their conversations. "And this is hardly a shotgun wedding since Benji and I have been together for three years now, if anything this is long overdue.

"But that is beside the point. What the fuck were you thinking leaving this EPT test out on my kitchen counter?" She thrust a stick into my hands. I looked down to indeed see a clear and definitive pregnant in the small oval.

"What? You think it's mine? I hate to break it to you Rye but Chloe's not exactly capable of getting me pregnant, lacks a certain important appendage for all of that," I joked although by the looks of it Riley wasn't taking it that way.

"It's not mine, I wasn't even there today. Chloe…" I trailed off, my eyes landing on where you stood with Aubrey, Jesse, and Wes. Your eyes were flashing that same indescribable glint. You ran a hand through your hair as you laughed at something Wes said.

"You know what Riley, thanks for this," I said, giving the test a little wave. I gave Riley a pat on the shoulder as I started to walk away, "But I've really got to speak to my wife now."

"Where are you going? I'm talking to you Beca Mitchell!" She called after me.

My feet carried me over to where you stood, my jaw seemingly on permanent hinge. You noticed me coming over before I was even in your eyeline, you always had an uncanny ability to do just that. You gave me a flirty grin when I was finally in your vision before your eyes swept down to the stick in my hand. Your grin dropped as your eyes flickered across my face uncertainly.

I stopped in front of you, with my back to Aubrey, Wes, and Jesse not actually caring if they were here or not for this.

Holding up the stick in front of you, I implored, "What's this?"

"It appears to be a pregnancy test," Jesse's voice was cut off by what I assumed was Aubrey's elbow in his gut but I didn't turn to look.

"Chlo?" I asked.

You gave me a shy grin, so uncharacteristic of your normal bold personality. "Well, that's kind of what I wanted to tell you about…"

"Are you—Did it-I mean are we?" I started and stopped several sentences not able to form a full sentence.

You just smiled at me, that smile that was just for me. Your eyebrow arched playfully before you nodded eagerly. I launched myself forward, your arms reaching out at just the right time so I didn't knock you over with my enthusiasm.

I couldn't believe it. You were pregnant. We had been trying for half a year now and you were pregnant. And on what we thought would be our last try before taking a break. You were pregnant. You were _pregnant_.

I gave you a hard kiss on the lips, laughing happily once I pulled back.

_You were pregnant._

I couldn't contain my laughter, not sure if I had ever been this happy before. Rounds of IVF later it had finally taken.

It by no means had been an easy road to get to where we were now. That day in Aubrey's firm, you had called me out on all of my bullshit. You cut right through my words and uncovered all the insecurities I had never wanted you to find.

But you did. You called me out and you didn't leave. Not this time. You stayed with me and you held me as I finally broke down. You figured it all out even before I had.

I didn't want to hurt you, I had never wanted to hurt you. Yet I did. And there was no coming back from that. But there was moving forward.

So when we left, we went home and sat in our living room. There we did all of the talking I had been putting off for the prior months.

No matter how uncomfortable it made me, I kept talking. I told you more about my father than I had ever told anyone. I told you about my skewed view of relationships. I told you about my rationale for each and every one of my actions. I told you how much I loved you and how much I needed you in my life.

You sat, you listened and when it was your turn we started the process over again.

Emotions ran rampant but we both stayed. We sat in our living room and no matter how much it hurt to listen, no matter how much it hurt to keep talking, both of us stayed. It wasn't easy. But no one ever said it was supposed to be.

We didn't fall into the simple pattern of old. After our talk there was no going back to the life we once had. We began again, as a matter of speaking. We decided to put it all past us: the almost divorce, you leaving, me overworking. We had to put it past us. Otherwise we would forever be stuck in the same arguments again and again.

We still fought about small matters and large, but we never walked out. We talked through our problems. We did our best to be the best for each other.

So we went on dates and we ate dinner together every night. I continued to build _Mitchell Productions_. Riley's first single was a chart topper just as I suspected. That first album went platinum and brought in an insane amount of requests for collaborations. But I never took on more than a couple of artists at a time.

I kept my set hours. I still spun every once and a while because I could and because you told me once that you loved how I looked up on that platform. And you were there for me. You helped me with a couple of key hires for the business when we purchased a new studio space.

You decorated my new office and nearly made me deaf in one ear when Riley won the Grammy for best new artist that year. You kept me calm a year later when I received a nomination for producer of the year. Even though I didn't win, having you whisper dirty jokes in my ear the whole night was possibly more desirable than actually winning.

Every night we would sit around the kitchen table after dinner. You would stretch your feet over to sit on my lap as you graded papers and planned lessons. I would mix mostly but occasionally return the emails I had neglected each morning.

It wasn't comfortable. No, it wasn't comfortable because every day that you were still in my life was something so much better than comfortable. Every day was an intangible. Every day was something more than the day before it. I went to sleep each night content and looked forward to every day.

"God, Chloe Mitchell I love you so much," I said my lips almost touching yours.

"Well you've got me knocked up, the hell if you're getting out of this now," you said, a joking lilt to your words.

You closed the miniscule gap between our lips and I knew that there was no other place that I needed to be.

I didn't need the studio. I didn't need the company. I didn't need any of that.

The last wedding rehearsal we had attended ended up being one of the worst nights in my life. Three years later, I smiled while holding you in my arms as we celebrated your pregnancy. I wasn't my father in the least.

I would never forget how I almost lost it all. I would never forget how much it hurt not to have you in my life. I would never forget how empty life seemed when we were separated. I would never forget how important you were to my very existence. I suppose that maybe I had never truly forgotten in the first place. It seems that three years ago all I needed was a little reminder.

**A/N: So…? There you have it. Story complete. Let me know what you thought about the story as a whole or simply this last epilogue here. **

**I was being purposely vague in the beginning, hope that didn't make any of you too angry with me. **

**I wanted to take the time and thank you all for reading and give a special thank you to all the guest and users that left reviews for this story. You may not realize how vital you are to my writing but believe me you are essential to my process. Everybody loves feedback and those two or three minutes you take to fill your thoughts into that little box mean the world to me. They also make me a little more motivated to procrastinate my school work with writing instead of teaching myself songs on the ukulele from youtube.**


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